


Jaggedshadow's Vengeance: A Tale of Redemption

by Albion_S_Knight



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Dark Forest (Warriors), Dark Forest Battle (Warriors), Gen, Light Angst, NightClan-Centric (Warriors), Power of Three/Omen of The Stars AU where the Dark Forest is even more of a threat, RiverClan (Warriors), ShadowClan (Warriors), ThunderClan (Warriors), WindClan (Warriors), no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 01:27:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 24,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29235294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Albion_S_Knight/pseuds/Albion_S_Knight
Summary: A Power of Three/Omen of The Stars AU where the Dark Forest is even more of a threat, so much so that each ancestor group other than Starclan, (who still has the Three) bless at least one character with a power to protect their respective groups/defeat the Dark Forest. The main plot follows Jaggedshadow, an angry and bitter Nightclan cat, through his revenge plot and various other shenanigans.
Kudos: 1





	1. Allegiances

**Nightclan**

Leader  : **Cedartail:** light grey tabby tom with a black stripe 

Deputy  : **Flamesong:** ginger tom with a scar on his jaw **apprentice: Darksky**

Medicine cat/healer: **Nightsong:** lithe black tom with green eyes, white tail-tip

Warriors  : **Shadefern:** dark tabby she-cat with blue eyes & grey mittens

**Rainfur:** skinny beige she-cat with green eyes & a scar over her left eye **apprentice: Brokenstorm**

**Whitestripe:** black & white tabby she-cat with blue eyes

**Moondusk:** silver, black & dark ginger tortoiseshell tom with silver eyes

**Stormwind:** silver tabby she-cat with green eyes & a slight limp

**Shattered Oak:** stocky dark tabby tom with green eyes 

**Swiftbreeze:** lithe black she-cat with green eyes

Apprentices  : **Amberpelt:** ginger tabby tom with green eyes

**Darksky:** dark grey tabby she-cat with blue eyes

**Brokenstorm:** white tabby tom with black stripes & blue eyes

Elders: **Silvermist:** silver-grey she-cat with blue eyes

**River's Echo:** heavily scarred grey tabby tom with cloudy blue eyes, is the oldest living cat in Nightclan

Spirit Guardians (AKA Guardians. They protect and shelter ancient spiritual ancestors within their bodies who, in return, give their guardian wisdom, knowledge, training, and often heal their guardian's impairments.)

**Jaggedshadow:** massive tan and black tabby tom with amber eyes, long fangs, and three scars over his right eye 

**Guide, Plague:** dark ginger and black tabby tom with green eyes

**Stoneclaw:** large grey tabby tom with icy blue eyes

 **Guide, Frost:** white tom with amber eyes

**Ravenheart:** black she-cat with white mittens & green eyes. **apprentice: Amberpelt**

 **Guide, Twistedbreeze:** light grey she-cat with green eyes.

**The Pack**

Adults:  **Ro-niath:** dark furred she-wolf with a large scar below her right ear

**Azlune:** tall she-wolf with light fur

**Æri:** well-muscled wolf with black fur, a deep notch in the tip of his left ear, and an X-shaped burn scar on his forehead 

Young ones  (loosely equivalent to apprentices or to-bes; are five moons old or older.)

 **Keo:** light-furred young she-wolf

**Behemoth:** large young wolf with coarse dark fur

**Fenn:** large young wolf with a patch of dark grey down his back and large eagle-like wings

**Vargir:** young wolf with a wide notch in the side of one ear.

**Ellyk:** small young wolf with a chipped fang 


	2. Prologue

A tall black cat stepped into a clearing where a group of other spirits were gathered. He sat beside a green-eyed white she-cat. 

"You are late as always, Othtor," said a black she-cat. A blue-eyed light grey tom sat to her left. To his left, sat a large orange tom. On Othtor's left, two cats sat: a long furred silver tom and a strong, lean brown she-cat. 

“I know, Tall Shadow” Othtor replied. “There was trouble in Nightclan. I cannot abandon them when they need my help.”

“Othtor,” Stoneteller said. “This is serious. Windclan, Shadowclan,Thunderclan and Riverclan have The Three, but we fear that their power will not be enough. We are gathered here to select protectors from the ranks of the remaining groups. The Place of No Stars is gaining strength with each passing day.” 

"The Three?" Othtor asked.

" 'There will be three, kin of your kin who hold the power of the stars in their paws'," Thunder quoted. "This prophecy was given to Firestar of Thunderclan not long after he restored Skyclan. The names of The Three are Lionblaze, Hollyleaf and Jaypaw." 

"What are they like?" Othtor asked Thunder

Thunder stood. "Well Jaypaw is skilled but can be quite snappy at times. Lionblaze is strong and powerful. Hollyleaf is perceptive and has a strong sense of right and wrong. By the way, how is Legion?"

"They are well. I expect the union between The two spirits to reach its final stage in a moon, and union between the six spirits to reach its final stage in five moons. Legion's vessel however, has degraded somewhat."

Thunder sat. "When will Nightclan attend a gathering?

"I do not know. My clan has been isolated from the others for seasons. I shall try to send a vision to Nightsong." 

"Will that be all?" 

“No.” Othtor stood. "I select Jaggedshadow and Lightningwing, sons of Icefang, son of Leopardpelt, son of Snowyraven, son of River's Echo, son of Falling Star, son of Wolf's Fur, son of Jade Eye, son of Stone Wings, son of Fierce River, son of Shadowed Dawn, son of my son, Plague, as protectors of Nightclan. I also select Æri  **(AN:** Eye-ree) and his son, Fenn, as auxiliaritory protectors of Nightclan and the surrounding territories. The powers of my chosen ones will be as follows: Jaggedshadow will have combat clairvoyance and the ability to imitate other cats' fur. Lightningwing will have enhanced senses, and Æri will have the ability to travel via shadow."

“Lightningwing I understand to a degree," Stoneteller said, "but why do you choose wolves? And why Jaggedshadow? He seems unfit to be one of Nightclan's protectors. Why not choose Stoneclaw, Nightsong or Flamesong?" 

Othtor stepped closer to the others. "It is true that Jaggedshadow is arrogant, stubborn and proud to a fault, but it is his strength that I see. He is passionate about what he cares about and his fighting prowess makes him a formidable foe. As for the wolves, they are strong and are fiercely protective of their territory."

"I see," said Stoneteller, "The Tribe of Rushing Water's protector will-" 

“Just a moment.” River Ripple interrupted, "Riverclan will have its own protector separate from the three. I select Roseheart for the role." 

“What is their power?" Othtor asked.

"She will be able to travel long distances in short amounts of time."

"Now that that is settled," Othtor said. "What were you saying, Stoneteller?"

"The Tribe of Rushing Water's protector will be able to lift objects with their mind."

“Then it is settled?”

“Yes.” 

"No it isn't," Clear Sky said, "Skyclan is without a protector. I select Sharpclaw. He will be nigh-unstoppable in battle." 

After Clear Sky said this, the twenty-third High Council of Elders was over. The seven spirits all stood, turning to return to their respective skies. 


	3. Chapter 3

"Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the stone-circle for a clan meeting.” A large gray tom called, rising from his place on the high rock. 

A massive tom walked toward the tall, ancient, circular grey meeting platform. Ethereal moonlight revealed bands of silver that bordered black stripes on his pelt. A small crowd had already gathered around the stone circle. 

Cedertail stepped back. "The eldest apprentice has earned his promotion. Jaggedshadow, step into the circle." Jaggedshadow leaped onto the stone circle and turned to face his leader. After a few moments of solemn silence, Cedartail spoke once again. 

"I, Cedartail, leader of Nightclan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look upon this apprentice that stands before you. He has trained for moons, perfecting his already impressive fighting skills, as well as becoming an effective suplimentary healer, and I commend him as a warrior and as a Spirit Guardian for his merits.” He stepped to the edge of the stone-circle, looking into Jaggedshadow's eyes.

"Do you, Jaggedshadow, swear to practice and uphold the ways of a warrior, and defend NightClan with your final dying breath?" 

"I swear," Jaggedshadow vowed, his tail tip twitching.  _ Finally! This is what I've wanted for so long.  _

A deep voice, smooth for it's age, sounded within Jaggedshadow's mind.  _ Don't be so sure Jaggedshadow, this is just one of many defining moments in your life.  _

__

Jaggedshadow slid a hindleg back.  _ Plague, how do you know that?  _

_Jaggedshadow,_ _I have seen it all, every step and misstep you will make, every mistake, and every battle you will win._

Jaggedshadow raised a brow. _ You've seen all that?  _

__

Plague laughed. _ everything _ .

"I grant you the rank of warrior," Cedartail meowed.

Jaggedshadow lifted his chin and puffed his chest out, his eyes focused on a rock ledge that stood high above Cedartail.

"This meeting is at an end,” Cedartail meowed. 

Jaggedshadow padded away from the dissipating crowd and walked toward his brother Nightsong. 

"Well done Jaggedshadow," meowed Nightsong.

"Thank you Nightsong,"

Jaggedshadow meowed, "I did my best. I still wish that Pineheart was here."

"You know as well as I do that it can't happen." 

"True." 

Stoneclaw stepped toward Jaggedshadow. his rough, ragged, stone-gray fur appearing almost white in the moonlight. He stood tall above most other cats. His former apprentice Jaggedshadow was one of the few Nightclan cats taller than he. 

Stoneclaw was a kind, noble cat. He had been a great, if strict, mentor, even after his brother's and mate's deaths.

"Jaggedshadow, your marking ritual will be performed at dusk tomorrow.” He looked at the moonlit sky. “In the meantime however, I shall show you to your nice new nest within the guardians den.”

Stormwind's smooth silver fur shimmered in the pale moonlight as she walked toward Jaggedshadow. Her eyes the colour of oak leaves shone happily, as did her grin.

"Congratulations!" She meowed, "I hope we can find time to ourselves."

"Aw come on, my duties as a guardian aren't that different," Jaggedshadow meowed.

Stormwind walked closer toward him. "Still, I worry our duties will separate us." 

"We'll see if they do." 

A shorter, stocky brown tabby stepped out from what remained of the crowd. "I’m going to miss you, Jaggedshadow,” he meowed, "And I'll never forget you."

“It's not like I’m dying, Shattered Oak,” Jaggedshadow replied dryly. He nudged him playfully backward. 

"My den will be farther away, that's all.” Jaggedshadow turned to follow Stoneclaw. 

Stoneclaw nodded toward three moss-lined dips in the cave floor that lay parallel to the western cave-wall. “My nest is the center nest, Ravenheart’s nest is behind mine, and your nest is closest to camp.” 

“What about that unlined nest?" Jaggedshadow curled up in his soft, cold nest that smelt of moss, bracken and pine bark. 

Without turning his head to look, Stoneclaw meowed, "That nest is reserved for another guardian, or overflow from the medicine den. Now go to sleep.” 

Jaggedshadow rested his head on his forelegs, his eyes still open. He closed his eyelids and held them shut, but sleep didn't come, it never came swiftly. 

A welcome darkness enveloped Jaggedshadow. He opened his eyes, and looked around. 

The moon was high in the star speckled sky, casting jagged shards of cold silver light on the rock-strewn ground. He was dreaming. Jaggedshadow padded toward, and sat underneath a massive, ancient birch tree.

"Greetings Jaggedshadow," Plague mewed. 

"Yes?" Jaggedshadow stood up.

"The High Council of Elders have chosen you to receive-" 

"You must be joking," Jaggedshadow meowed, "Surely Stoneclaw is the better choice for the position of chosen one."

"I am not joking, not this time anyway." Plague batted Jaggedshadow's uninjured ear with his paw. "The council have chosen you for this honor, as I choose you to guard my memory."

Jaggedshadow puffed out his chest and broke into a purr. "It has been an honor since our paths first met."

"Troubled times lay ahead," Plague meowed, "the fate of the clan may rest on your shoulders, and your loyalty will be tested." He placed his paw on Jaggedshadow's shoulder. "You shall feel it soon, brace yourself."

"I am," Jaggedshadow meowed, with no small amount of bravado, "Bring it on." 

Plague set his paw on the ground. "With this energy I instill into you, I give you the strength and courage to take on any opponent." 

A searing, tingling sensation enveloped Jaggedshadow’s body. His fur brightened into bands of amber and gold and spiked up; his surroundings took on a bloody tint. 

Jaggedshadow's vision cleared and he found himself standing tall on a snowy mountain peak.

As he gazed across the vast open sky, Jaggedshadow felt the cold, crisp air on his whiskers. He felt powerful, like he could scale the highest mountain, climb the highest tree, brave any storm, and defeat any enemy. 

A gust of wind buffeted Jaggedshadow, but he stood firm, almost unmoved by the wall of moving snow. He closed his eyes, taking in the warmth, the energy, the passion and the strength. 

Jaggedshadow opened his eyes to the misty moonlit forest. Plague stood above him with a concerned and puzzled look on his face.

"Are you okay?" Plague asked, "imbuing doesn't usually throw cats."

"I'm fine,” Jaggedshadow meowed, his shoulder throbbing from the impact. He stood. "So, why exactly is this necessary?"  _ And what just happened? _

"You will need the powers to fight against vengeful warriors from the place of no stars," Plague meowed, "The powers are a gift, you must use them well, you must use them wisely." 

"I understand, and I accept," Jaggedshadow meowed.

"I thought you would," Plague meowed, "You must be prepared to fight and kill for our clan." 

"I am," Jaggedshadow meowed, "Especially since the battle." 

"You must learn to let go of what happened at hawk ridge, lest your anger and hatred blind you," Plague meowed.

"Cedartail  _ will _ pay for his crimes," Jaggedshadow meowed. 

“Do not do anything that will bring you sorrow.” Plague stepped into the undergrowth, and vanished, leaving behind a patch of iridescent mist.

As Jaggedshadow stood underneath the tree, a sharp burning pain pierced his chest. He looked down and saw his pelt darkening, wave after painful wave, gradually returning to normal. The undergrowth rustled. Jaggedshadow looked up. A small tortoise-shell she-cat had emerged from the brambles.

"Who are you, and how did you get in here?" Jaggedshadow demanded.

"I'm Roseheart of Thunderclan," she replied, "And I have no idea how I got here. Who are you?" 

"I am Jaggedshadow, warrior of Nightclan, Guardian of Plague, and you are walking in  _ my  _ dream, you unkempt rouge," he snapped as his dream faded away. 

Jaggedshadow awoke with a start. Stoneclaw had been prodding them in the shoulder.

"Get up Jaggedshadow, we're on the sunhigh patrol," Stoneclaw meowed. 

"What about Ravenheart?"

"I'll be on the next." Ravenheart began to stir from her nest.

"Well come on," Stoneclaw meowed.

"Alright, I'm coming." Jaggedshadow heaved himself out of his nest. 

Jaggedshadow followed him out of the guardian's cave, and into camp. 

"Jaggedshadow, my stores of goldenrod are low." Nightsong stepped toward them.

"Got it," Jaggedshadow meowed, "But I can't promise anything." 

Jaggedshadow and Stoneclaw walked toward the entrance tunnel, where three warriors were already waiting.

"I understand that we're to be on this patrol?" Stoneclaw meowed.

"Yes, you two fall in between Shadefern and Moondusk," Rainfur meowed.

The patrol set out from camp as if on some holy quest. The three warriors and two guardians walked through the lush forest, tracing along and scanning Nightclan's border for intruders and threats. They reached a tall, crooked, mossy, tilted old tree known as the watcher's tree, and they all tensed up. 

Before they returned to camp, Jaggedshadow stepped into a gloomy clearing, where an albicant-pelted figure sat motionless, as if he were waiting. He crooned as he spoke, "Vengeance shall be yours." 

"Who are you?" Jaggedshadow asked. 

"I am Whitestone," he meowed, "None of the others can see me, or hear anything I say."

Jaggedshadow fought off a laugh. "Go on."  _ What kind of fool does this hag think I am? Most, if not all cats can see spirits. _

"I wish to help you," Whitestone meowed, "I can-” 

“That is enough, Whitestone." Plague appeared at Jaggedshadow’s side. "Begone you fox-hearted, deceitful fiend, you and I both know where your intentions lie." 

“This isn't over,” Whitestone meowed, "I will return for your answer." Whitestone turned his head toward Plague. "Blacktail sends his regards." He stepped forward and vanished.

"What was that about?" Jaggedshadow asked.

"Nothing," Plague meowed.

Jaggedshadow turned his head. "When did you get here, Roseheart?" 

"Not long ago." 

"Do you know this cat?" Plague asked. 

"No," Jaggedshadow meowed, "She walked in my dream last night, not long after the imbuing." 

"StarClan must have sent her here," Plague sighed, "Tiger will defeat fire before blood shall scourge the land." 

"Is this connected to my power? And why haven't you told me about this prophecy?" Jaggedshadow asked. 

"I only learned of it recently," Plague meowed.

"I thank you for sharing your knowledge," Jaggedshadow mewed. 

"I have told you a thousand times," meowed Plague, "that there's no need for such formality."

"Could you show me to your camp? I have important news for your leader," Roseheart asked. 

"Sure." Jaggedshadow glanced at where Whitestone had been standing, and saw a large clump of goldenrod. He padded toward the tall, thin stems, and nipped off several. He headed toward camp, his jaws tightly gripping several of the largest stems. 

He strode carefully into camp, toward the healer's den, swiftly dodging past Ravenheart, Shattered Oak, Amberpelt, and Darksky on the way to the healer's den. 

"Jaggedshadow! You brought my goldenrod," Nightsong meowed. 

"T'was not a problem, ‘Night," Jaggedshadow meowed, "Just doing service for a fellow healer.” 

"You do know that you are not a full medicine cat?" Nightsong asked, "and can you please stop calling me that? My name is perfectly good, thank you."

"Sure, whatever keeps you happy," Jaggedshadow meowed with a grin. 

"Who is this cat?" 

"I'm Roseheart, I'm from Thunderclan," she meowed. 

Jaggedshadow and Roseheart crossed the camp, and after some time, they reached the cave that was Cedartail's den. 

Jaggedshadow entered the den. "Cedartail, there's a cat here who wishes an audience with you."

"Bring them in," Cedartail meowed. They entered the den, and found themselves in a large, rough walled cave. Cedartail turned toward Roseheart, his gaze locked on her. “What have you to say?” 

“StarClan told me to warn you of a pack of cats who will be at your eastern border,” Roseheart stated. 

Jaggedshadow stepped back.  _ That's what she considers important news? _

“Does Starclan consider Nightclan to be helpless?” Cedartail meowed. 

“No, Starclan is concerned for Nightclan’s well being,” Roseheart meowed.

“StarClan needs to keep their meddling paws in their own sky.” Cedartail slashed her foreleg with his claws. 

"As do the rest of the other clans, and I already know about those rouges. My clan guardians have seen to that.” Cedartail sheathed his claws. 

“Guardians?” Roseheart asked. 

“A spirit guardian is a Nightclan cat who has a bond with a cat from our afterlife, who is called a guide,” Jaggedshadow meowed. 

“To be more precise, a Spirit-guardian shares their body with their guide,” Plague meowed.

“Who was that?” Roseheart asked, her fur fluffing up from fear. 

“Wait, you can't see spirits?" Jaggedshadow asked her. _Sun, moon and stars!_ He thought, _Not only is she a complete fool, she's spirit blind._ “The voice was my guide, Plague.” 

"Oh." 

Cedartail narrowed his eyes and stepped towards her. “If you have left my territory by dawn tomorrow, my warriors will not shred you.” 

“I must stay here,” Roseheart meowed. 

“Leave my den now,” he meowed, "Before I kill you myself." 

“No, I wo-” she meowed.

“Yes, Cedartail, we're leaving,” Jaggedshadow interrupted. 

"Escort her to the border." Cedartail sliced the sand with a claw. "Kill her if she resists."

"Yes Cedartail," Jaggedshadow meowed.  _ I must gain his trust, otherwise my plan will never work. And failure is not an option, not if I wish to live. _

"Don't fail," Cedartail meowed, "unless of course, you want to end up like your sister." 

Jaggedshadow let out a low, almost silent growl. "I will not fail."  _ How dare he mention Riverpelt like that!  _

"See to it that you don't." 

Jaggedshadow and Roseheart walked down the short, narrow path and through the busy camp. They entered and walked along the wide tunnel that led to the rest of the territory. They emerged from the tunnel opening, and found themselves in a large clearing, which was edged with pine and fir trees and dappled with shadows. 

“That was a bold but incredibly stupid move back there,” Jaggedshadow meowed, “You must be more careful you idiot, Cedartail has banished, mamed, and killed cats over less.” 

"No respectable warrior kills another,” meowed Roseheart, "The warrior code forbids it." 

"We don't live by your rules," Jaggedshadow meowed, "and Cedartail is a cruel, treacherous, murderous tyrant."

They stepped forward and then a black-pelted cat landed, his dark wings folding, in front of Roseheart. "You must not leave.” 

“Why must I not, Lightningwing?” asked Roseheart. 

“If you aren't able to save Nightclan, all will be lost." 

"That isn't her place,” Jaggedshadow meowed, "it's mine." 

“Besides, I have been warned to leave Nightclan territory by dawn, or I will be slain,” Roseheart meowed. 

“Jaggedshadow, you have Thunderclan blood, you must help her.” Lightningwing meowed.

“Blood doesn't matter, it's loyalty that counts,” Jaggedshadow meowed, "And I will fight to the death for my clan. Now cross the border and never return.” 

“Having trouble?” Ravenheart emerged from beneath the bracken, with Nightsong, and her apprentice Amberpelt close behind. 

“No, I can handle this,” Jaggedshadow meowed, "Just our guest, and this... intruder.” his tail lashed from side to side.

“I am no intruder, Jaggedshadow, StarClan sent me.” Lightningwing's tail twitched nervously. 

“Starclan has no authority here,” Jaggedshadow meowed, "no one to save you if I choose to kill you." 

"You wouldn't!" Lightningwing meowed, "we are brothers." 

"Icefang has no sons other than Nightsong and I."

"I heard that Icefang has three sons other than me," Lightningwing meowed, “who's the third?”

“What's it to you?” Jaggedshadow stepped closer to Lightningwing, his tail lashing. 

"I'm just wondering." Lightningwing lifted his chin and stepped toward Jaggedshadow. "I've always wanted to know my kin." 

"Icefang is dead, as are Riverpelt and Hawkflight." Jaggedshadow's head bowed and he snapped it back up, his ears flattened against his head. "Get out of here, you winged runt." 

"Ok fine, we'll leave." Lightningwing leaped into the air, his wings unfurling. 

Jaggedshadow watched Lightningwing fly into the distance, the dark tom's wings slicing through the open sky. Roseheart tensed up and sprang across the scent line.

Jaggedshadow turned and stormed into the undergrowth like an enraged fox. He charged through the spacious, lush green woods, and through clearings and up into a wide, ancient pine tree. 

He climbed up it's rough, claw-scared trunk. From his perch in the tree, Jaggedshadow could see the treetops. In the distance, he saw a small brown owl glide swiftly above him. Glancing down at the ground, he saw a sparrow. Leaping from the tree, he landed behind it. The sparrow flew away, sounding an alarm call. 

With a heavy sigh, Jaggedshadow padded back towards camp. He felt his paws carrying them towards the snow pool. Jaggedshadow stared into the depths of the water. His eyes glinted golden, his pupils thin slits of black under the piercing sun. Three scars divided the skin and fur above and below his right eye. One of his ears was notched at the top, and two gleaming white fangs jutted down from his muzzle. 

_ When Plague told me about Dawnclan's decision, my fur changed, could I do that again?  _ Jaggedshadow lifted his head and sat down. 

_ Yes, you should be able to.  _ Plague's voice meowed.  _ Think about a cat you know; focus on their fur pattern and colours, and your pelt will follow soon after.  _

_ I'll try to copy Nightsong's pelt, I know him best, aside from Stormwind, Shadefern and Shattered Oak.  _ Jaggedshadow stood up and looked back into the pool.

_ How does it look? _ Jaggedshadow unsheathed his claws and sank them into the ground.

His black-striped tan fur blacked as if it had caught fire. The ashes spreading quickly from his chest, and his tail-tip began to tingle soon after, as if it had been frozen solid and then thawed soon after. 

Plague at Jaggedshadow's left side as usual. "Not bad," he meowed, "now shift back." 

As plague re-entered his guardian's body, a familiar wave of warmth washed over Jaggedshadow. He swept the clearing with his senses and focused his thoughts on his fur as it usually was. Shadowy stripes, edged with thin bands of silver, surmounting a sandy background came to Jaggedshadow's mind. A tingling warmth surged along his pelt from nose to tail.

“Are you alright?” Nightsong padded toward the snow pool. 

“I’m fine.” Jaggedshadow sat down at the sloping, rough edge off the snow pool. 

“You're not, and you know it.” Nightsong sat down at Jaggedshadow’s left side, his tail stroking his brother’s back. “Let me help you.” Nightsong turned toward Jaggedshadow. “You haven't been the same since the battle.” 

“I don't need help,” Jaggedshadow asserted. 

“Are you sure?” Nightsong asked. 

"Of course I'm sure, I just came here to think," Jaggedshadow meowed. 

“What about?” Nightsong meowed.

“Nothing really.” Jaggedshadow stood up. “I must be going, I can't be late for my marking ritual.” 

“Goodbye, then,” meowed Nightsong, “I'll see you at star place in a moon?” 

“We'll see."


	4. Chapter 4

Wind rustled Jaggedshadow's thick, black-striped fur as he ran. His powerful legs carried him fast and far across the ground. Despite his best attempts, he would be late. He stopped momentarily to take in the beautiful scenery, which was lit faintly by the sliver-like moon. Running once again, he finally reached Star place, where the others were gathered. 

"It's about time he arrived," said Ravenheart as she stepped back from the edge of the pool.

"He's a warrior, not an apprentice," Stoneclaw meowed, "I imagine he had some duty or other to do."

"He has suffered much pain recently," Stoneclaw meowed as he tilted his head. 

"We have all suffered, Stoneclaw, but some of us have moved on from the battle," Ravenheart meowed, "I just hope that he can as well."

Stoneclaw stood up. "He won't see it that way." 

Jaggedshadow stood on a ledge of rock that stood high above the small, beautiful blue pool. A small stream trickled swiftly down the steep cliff face. 

"Am I too late for the ceremony?" Jaggedshadow said as he descended the long, worn spiralling path. 

"No." The grey tom glanced at the sky. 

"Then let's begin." Icefang sat down. 

“Yes, let us.” Plague, Frost, and Twistedbreeze appeared by their Guardian’s sides. 

Ravenheart, Storm, Stoneclaw, Frost and Plague formed a semicircle around Jaggedshadow. 

“Jaggedshadow, step forward,” Stoneclaw meowed. 

The formation shifted inward as the young guardian padded toward the pool. He turned around and they sat down. A lithe shadow slid between Ravenheart and Twistedbreeze, and landed beside Jaggedshadow. Icefang nodded and vanished, leaving a trail of smoke and ash.

“I, Nightsong, Healer of Nightclan, call upon my warrior ancestors to imbue this warrior with the strength necessary to endure his marking,” he meowed, "For in time, he will become a powerful spirit-guardian.” 

Jaggedshadow stood frozen in place. His heart raced. This was his final chance to prove that he was more than a simple warrior.

“Jaggedshadow, do you promise to uphold the ways of a spirit-guardian and honor the bright ones, however dark and painful your path might seem?”

“I do,” Jaggedshadow meowed.

“Then your union with Plague has reached its final stage,” Nightsong meowed, "I wish that I could grant you something else, so I'm going to play a role in your marking.” 

Stoneclaw and Nightsong padded behind Jaggedshadow and stepped sideways; so that the three of them formed a triangle. Stoneclaw nodded and the assembled let out a thunderous roar. 

A scorching, powerful wind rose up and struck Jaggedshadow, knocking him back from the edge, and into the freezing pool below. Jaggedshadow paddled furiously against the frigid water, when he felt his paws skimming gracefully across the water's surface as if it were solid rock. He sat down next to the water. 

Jaggedshadow's massive, powerful body lay deathly still on it's side, sprawling across the stone shore. Jaggedshadow leaned over his body's forelegs, and looked at his shoulder. A long, curved, tapering patch of scarred skin, the lion's fang mark, had been inscribed. A large, broad-shouldered tabby stood next to him.

_ Thank you _ . A deep voice rang in Jaggedshadow's mind. He turned his head and nodded. The tom's amber eyes mirrored Jaggedshadow's. One of his ears was split in two and a scar sliced the bridge of his nose. He stepped toward Jaggedshadow, his misty figure being not much shorter than Jaggedshadow.  _ We shall speak again at a later time _ . 

Jaggedshadow knelt down and re-entered his body, feeling the cold and rough stone beneath him. He stood up, taking in the cool air.  _ Who are you? _

_ You will find out soon enough, if you choose to join us. _ The tom stepped forward once more and disappeared, leaving a cloud of blood-red mist that turned into bright drops which hung in the air. The drops brightened into blinding spheres of light. Jaggedshadow stood there, his eyes narrowing into thin black slits. He closed his eyes and basked in the warmth of stars. He opened them to find Plague standing in front of him. 

“Now that you have felt the purifying wind, you will soon undergo your next trial,“ Plague meowed. 

"Spirit Guardians, recite your marks,” Stoneclaw meowed.

“Fire, for ferocity and passion.” Ravenheart stood up and stepped forward.

“Oak branch, for knowledge, resilience, and strength.” Stoneclaw stood up and stepped forward.

“The lion's fang, for courage and power.” Jaggedshadow stepped forward and slashed the air with his outstretched claws. 

The seven cats walked the narrow, worn path one by one until they reached a narrow tunnel, which was surmounted by a fallen, rotting tree. Just beyond the tree, stood a large and ancient yew bush.

"With the formalities over with, you may now begin your trial," Plague meowed, "Enter the tunnel. Do not return to us until you have found your way out. During your journey, you will encounter truths, lies, secrets, warnings, empty promises, buried memories, and glimpses into your future. Be strong, Jaggedshadow, and may you find your answers."

Before Jaggedshadow could begin his journey, a fox charged out of the undergrowth, struck Nightsong and Stoneclaw with its claws, and clamped its jaws around Nightsong. The fox lifted and shook its head. Nightsong thrashed himself around, his claws scratching the fox's shoulder and neck. Jaggedshadow ran towards the fiery creature and bit down onto its leg. The fox's jaw swung open and Nightsong dropped to the ground, blood streaming from his wounds. 

The fox whirled around, let out an angry howl and sprang at Jaggedshadow. The massive tabby leapt into the air and landed on the fox's back. Jaggedshadow slashed at the fox, his claws tearing fur, skin, and flesh off its back. The fox yelped to no avail, for Jaggedshadow was intent on killing it. The fox leapt into the air and Jaggedshadow gripped its back. It landed on its feet and rolled forward, dislodging Jaggedshadow. The large Guardian tumbled through the air, slammed into a rock, and rolled into Ravenheart. The fox stepped backward, pursued by Plague, Twistedbreeze, Stoneclaw and Ice. Jaggedshadow walked forward, the choking, bitter stench of blood filling his nostrils. The fox backed away, with warriors pursuing him. 

Jaggedshadow leaped forward and slashed at the fox's throat with his claws and ducked under it's belly. He rolled onto his back and slashed at its belly with his hind claws. Jaggedshadow rolled onto his paws, dodged a kick from the fox and leaped away. Ravenheart sprang toward the fox and raked its side with her claws. The fox limped backward and swung its paw at Ravenheart. Jaggedshadow sprang high into the air, landed on the fox's shoulders, and it's legs collapsed under his weight. Jaggedshadow sunk his teeth into the fox's throat and held on until it stopped struggling. He opened his mouth, let go of the fox's neck and stepped back.

"Are you all alright?" Jaggedshadow panted, blood dripping off of his fangs. He spat out blood.

"A scratch on my shoulder, but it isn't deep," Stoneclaw meowed.

"I have a decent gash in my side and some tooth marks, but they'll heal," Nightsong meowed.

"A split ear-tip, and a graze," Ravenheart meowed.

"What of the guides?" Jaggedshadow asked.

"Twistedbreeze took a claw to the face," meowed Ravenheart, "I can still feel the sting."

"I am fine," Frost meowed.

"Plague was wounded, but I don't know where," Jaggedshadow meowed.

"On my left shoulder," Plague meowed. 

"Let's go back to camp and treat our many wounds," Stoneclaw meowed.

"What about my trial?" Jaggedshadow asked, "I've lived my life for this." 

"You are covered in blood, you need care the most," Ravenheart meowed.

Jaggedshadow glanced at his blood matted fur and gave it a sniff. "Honestly, I'm fine," he meowed, "it's not my blood I'm covered in."

"Are you sure?" Nightsong asked.

"Y-Yes I am." 

"Then I will stay here and wait until you return," Stoneclaw meowed.

Ravenheart and Nightsong ran back to camp, their fur smoothing down as they sped away. Jaggedshadow watched them run out of sight, becoming small black specks on the horizon. Jaggedshadow nodded and padded toward the tunnel entrance.

"How long is one normally in the tunnels?"

"I entered the tunnels at moon high and left them behind just after sunhigh on a bright, beautiful day." Stoneclaw stepped around the tall, jagged triangular crack and stopped above it. "And Ravenheart returned from her journey just after nightfall, on a bitter-cold leaf-bare day, four days after she set out, gaunt and exhausted."

"Can I expect the same experience?" 

"No," Stoneclaw meowed, "every guardian's experience during their tunnel trial is unique. Embrace and be mindful of anything our ancestors choose to show you. Sometimes the darkest memories and deepest fears can shed new light."

"What about Plague?" 

"I'm afraid that I can't guide you on this journey. You must face yourself alone," Plague meowed, "I wish you safe travels and a better, deeper understanding of yourself."

"Okay then," Jaggedshadow meowed, "I'll see you again sometime soon."

He walked through the narrow, jagged-sided fissure that opened into a narrow, icy-cold abyss of a tunnel. Jaggedshadow walked the hole for some time, his whiskers barely touching the stone walls. The tunnel opened up and he found himself in a large, dimly lit cavern. He stepped into the center of the cave and looked upward through a large round hole in the cavern roof. 

Jaggedshadow swung his gaze downward, and the stony cave had vanished, replaced by trees and open sky.  _ How? Where am I? _


	5. Chapter 5

A hiss sounded from the tree line front of Jaggedshadow. He looked down and found that he was wrestling a smaller, skinny black tom. The tom struggled, but could not shake his opponent. Jaggedshadow bent his head down and sank his fangs into the tom –Greynose– 's shoulder. Greynose ran off with a yowl. Jaggedshadow stood up and ran toward Cedartail, searching the clearing for rebels. A small white she-cat charged forward with fury in her eyes. Jaggedshadow stepped forward and batted her away with a swipe of his paw. 

He crept around, keeping himself hidden within the shadows.  _ There's something oddly familiar about this, and I don't like it.  _

Jaggedshadow's father, Icefang, was wrestling Cedartail. Cedartail pinned Icefang against the ground and slammed the side of his head against the ground. "You will die for your treachery." 

_ No! I don't want to relive this _ . Jaggedshadow began to walk away, but his paws remained on the ground, as if rooted in place.

"I have betrayed no cat! I have served loyally at your side for moons," Icefang insisted.

"Liar!" Cedartail shouted, "you have betrayed your Clan." 

"Never!" Icefang meowed as he struggled in a desperate attempt to free himself. "I have only betrayed myself." 

Cedartail chortled and swiped his claws at Icefang's throat. Blood splattered his face, chest and forelegs. "Those were the truest words you've said since your return." 

Icefang thrashed wildly in a final desperate attempt to throw Cedartail off him. Cedartail stabbed Icefang in the chest with his claws and held him down as he bled out. 

Icefang's body relaxed as he went limp. Icefang lifted and turned his head toward Jaggedshadow, his sky-blue eyes draining of light. 

His head dropped back down. Cedartail stood up and walked toward flamesong. Jaggedshadow stepped out of the shadows and walked back to the ridge-top clearing. 

He scanned the corpse-strewn clearing with sight and scent, and saw Snowfeather lying motionless on the ground. Jaggedshadow walked toward her body. Blood had collected in a large pool that lay below the killing wound. The fur on her neck and forelegs was soaked in her own blood. Jaggedshadow turned away and walked toward the watching tree. 

  
_ Why was I shown that? _ Jaggedshadow closed his eyes and let his whiskers and nose guide him down the tunnels. The path before him sloped as he walked, the air becoming cold and heavy like snowfall. Jaggedshadow's belly rumbled hungrily as he continued walking. He halted mid-step and his fur spiked up. A stone pillar blocked his path.


	6. Chapter 6

Jaggedshadow opened his mouth slightly to taste the air. He continued walking, his tail still brisling like a pinecone. Something under Jaggedshadow dislodged itself from the gritty, abrasive stone and he fell. 

Jaggedshadow was pressed between a cold wall of frozen moss and a warm lump of long, soft, fine fur. He stood up and stretched, his back arching, and his paws flexed open until they began to hurt. As he finished stretching, he unsheathed his claws and sank them into the moss.

"Where am I?" He squeaked. _And why does my voice sound like that?_

His questions were answered only by soft, peaceful breaths. Jaggedshadow climbed out of the nest and sheathed his claws. Brambleshade, Riverpelt, Hawkflight, Nightsong, and Dawnfall were lying sound asleep in the nest. _If they're all here, then where are Icefang and Pineheart?_

The air felt cold and crisp on his whiskers. He walked towards the cold, his legs shaking and wobbling all the way. Jaggedshadow walked face-first into something solid. He fell to the cold, sandy ground and stood shakily back up. His legs gave out and he fell again. Claws unsheathed and were sunk into the sand. But his claws purchase on the sand soon failed and Jaggedshadow felt the coarse grains on his face once again. He pulled himself back off the ground, his tail lashing from frustration. 

"Fierce-spirited, isn't he?" Icefang asked.

"He takes after you,” Brambleshade meowed from the other side of the den. 

Icefang seemed to ignore her words and he crossed the den. Jaggedshadow crawled to the edge of the nest and sat up.

"Icefang, what is it that you're holding?" Brambleshade asked him.

"A wolf pup," Icefang meowed matter-of-factly, "I found it underneath a tall-pine."

Jaggedshadow stepped sideways and ducked behind a rock. _Is this when me and my littermates were introduced to Pineheart?_ He dropped into a crouch and tried to keep still, but his tail-tip waved in the air.

"I will nurse him and raise him as a son, if that is what you're asking of me," Brambleshade meowed

"It is." 

"Bring him here." Brambleshade meowed, "What shall we call him?"

"I found him under a tall-pine, so his prefix should be pine."

"I agree completely, but the suffix still needs to be decided."

"Night maybe?" Icefang set the black bundle beside Brambleshade. 

Icefang's gaze swept over the boulder and Jaggedshadow pulled himself closer to the ground. But his parents didn't seem to notice, so he stood up a bit and tucked his paws under himself. 

"His fur is too coarse to be a sky-dweller." Brambleshade pulled her tail away from Riverpelt's paws and tucked it under her hindlegs.

"And too long to be a night-stalker." Stoneclaw entered the den and sat down between Icefang and the rock that Jaggedshadow was hiding behind.

"I thought that we agreed that this is a private matter," Icefang muttered.

"It still is, and this was my idea," Stoneclaw meowed, "besides, I brought prey."

"Thank you, so much," Brambleshade meowed as she began to devour a small pheasant, scattering feathers around the den and nest.

"What about heart?"

"Stoneclaw, I have no idea what you're talking about," Icefang meowed. 

"Well the wolf's build is similar to that of a tree-leaper."

"True."

Brambleshade lay back down. "Pineheart… now that is a good name." 

"So, it is agreed?" Stoneclaw asked.

Icefang and Brambleshade nodded, and the latter spoke. "Yes it is. From this moment onward, he will be known as Pineheart."

Jaggedshadow's tail-tip began to curl and uncurl side-to side. He peeked over the rock. Nightsong stood up and yawned. His small, white needle-like teeth outshined his long, fine black fluffy fur. Jaggedshadow sat up and his tail dropped softly downward until it lay flat on the sand. 

"Jaggedshadow, you can come out from behind that rock," Brambleshade meowed, "we can see you."

"I'm not tired," Jaggedshadow meowed.

"You need to rest." Brambleshade stepped out of the nest and fastened her teeth into his scruff. She set him in the nest and lay down once again. 

Jaggedshadow found himself in the tunnel once again. He walked around the pillar and found himself standing before two paths. One path smelt strongly of earth and the other smelt of water and stone. Jaggedshadow took the path to the right, that smelt of earth and stale fear-scent, and soon felt sunlight warm his back. By then the hunger pangs had all but gone away. He lifted his head and saw the sun's light shine through a semicircular hole. The path sloped upward and the striped guardian ducked as the tunnel narrowed. He stopped abruptly before a wall of rock. 

Panic surged within Jaggedshadow, choking his confidence and muddying his thoughts. He whirled around, his flank slamming into the side of the tunnel, and ran back to the place where the paths split. He ignored the throbbing that came from his side. The left-hand path remained mostly level as Jaggedshadow walked onward. Without warning, the tunnel floor became smooth and it sloped steeply downward. 

He unsheathed his claws and hooked them into cracks in the rock. Jaggedshadow braced his hindlegs against the cold stony ground and ducked. The stone scraped Jaggedshadow's large ears. He folded them flat against his head and brought himself lower to the ground. The tunnel opened up and a hare darted into the path. Dropping into a hunting crouch, he sprang forward and sank his teeth into the hare's ribcage. The hare kicked and thrashed, but Jaggedshadow bit down even harder, until his prey's ribs cracked. 

Jaggedshadow stood up and walked, his hunger having been satisfied. The path remained narrow, but the floor had become covered in a thin layer of sand. He walked along the path and tripped over a root. He stood up, ran forward and stopped abruptly in front of a steep rock face. 

Cedartail, Flamesong and Nightsong stood atop the stone circle. Jaggedshadow glanced around himself. A Clan meeting had been called and NightClan -all that remained of it- had already gathered around the stone circle. 

Cedartail stepped toward his subjects. "Clan-mates, we have all but purged the Clan of traitors and renegades, and now, we will deal with the last of them. Flamesong, fetch Moondusk and Whitestripe, and bring the prisoners here." 

Flamesong leaped off the rock. He landed on a ledge and rolled for a few fox-lengths. Jaggedshadow looked around himself. Most of NightClan lay among the worms and tree roots. Those who had survived the battle, were plastered in poultices and splints which concealed wounds and broken bones. Out of his left eye, Jaggedshadow saw Flamesong leap off the tower. Flamesong landed on a ledge and rolled for a few fox-lengths. Riverpelt, Shadowclaw, Pineheart, Whitestripe, Moondusk and Flamesong leaped onto the stone circle. Jaggedshadow looked down, knowing that he had failed the skydwellers. 

“The prisoners will receive their punishments individually, starting with this treasonous brute.” Cedartail shoved Pineheart to the edge of the circle. 

"Treasonous?" Pineheart raised his chin and looked Cedartail in the eye. "I killed Coalfoot because he was a so-called traitor."

"Silence beast," Whitestripe growled. Pineheart bared his teeth. His loud, deep guttural growl drowned out Whitestripe's voice.

"Pineheart, for your insubordination, insolence and treachery," Cedartail meowed, "I, Cedartail, leader of NightClan, brand you a renegade and cast you out of NightClan for life."

"You will regret this." Pineheart leaped into the highledge.

"Flamesong, follow it and make sure that it crosses the border," Cedartail meowed.

Riverpelt stepped forward with a shocked look on her face. Flesh and bone showed where cruel claws had gouged grooves across her face. Jaggedshadow stepped back, gasping.

"Moondusk, Shadowclaw, to prove your loyalty, you must fight each other," Cedartail meowed, "NightClan, make room for the combat."

The crowd parted and formed a ring. Moondusk leaped off the stone and Shadowclaw followed her brother. Cedartail grinned and lowered his tail to signal the beginning of the combat.

Moondusk and Shadowclaw circled each other, looking for an advantage. Moondusk slashed her shoulder. Shadowclaw struck back. Moondusk leaped on top of her. Shadowclaw went limp, as if admitting defeat. Moondusk relaxed and he looked to Cedartail. 

Shadowclaw leaped upward, dislodging Moondusk and sending him across the ring. Shadowclaw rushed Moondusk and raked her claws across his surprised face. Moondusk slashed her chest. She leaped back. He prowled toward her and sank his teeth into her shoulder. Shadowclaw kicked her brother's nose, causing him to let go. She walked toward Moondusk, slashing his face and chest multiple times as she advanced. He slashed back, and they circled each other again. Shadowclaw leaped on Moondusk. Moondusk rolled over and pinned her against the ground.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Finish her." Cedartail meowed.

"I'm sorry Shadowclaw," Moondusk whispered into her ear. 

"S-so cold," Shadowclaw meowed softly.

"Shh," Moondusk whispered to her, "it's alright."

Jaggedshadow didn't see Shadowclaw die. Moondusk sat next to her, his left flank shielding his sister from view. Jaggedshadow stared at his paws. If he had failed the skydwellers during the battle, he might as well have betrayed them then.

"An excellent entertainment," Cedartail cheered.

Jaggedshadow's blood boiled. He clenched his jaw and wondered how could any cat be entertained by bloodshed, much less a Clanmate and a leader. Moondusk stood up, looking blankly around as if nothing would be the same again.

Cedartail turned toward his audience. "And finally... Riverpelt, for your treason during the battle at hawk ridge, I cast you out of NightClan."

"Surely her blinding is enough punishment?" Jaggedshadow meowed.

"And have a useless, disloyal warrior in my Clan?" Cedartail hissed. "Never. She will leave my territory at once or be driven out."

Jaggedshadow shook his head. "It's not right. In case you didn't notice, she is-"

"Silence low-born, unless you wish to take her place," Cedartail meowed.

"No, I will leave," Riverpelt meowed. "Jaggedshadow, it's honorable of you to defend me, but we're not kits anymore. I can look after myself."

Jaggedshadow stood up as Riverpelt climbed down the meeting stone. They shared a quick, somber farewell and Riverpelt ran across the camp. Jaggedshadow watched his sister run down the entry tunnel and out of sight. Cedartail grabbed some prey from the fresh kill pile and went to his den. Jaggedshadow went into the apprentices den and dropped heavily onto his nest.

Plague's black-striped blood-red figure appeared in front of Jaggedshadow like a cool breeze on a warm Greenleaf day. "Rough day Jaggedshadow?"

"Not now Plague, I-I-" Jaggedshadow's calm facade shattered and tears began dripping down his face.

"Something is troubling you. What is it?" Plague meowed.

"I don't want to talk about it," Jaggedshadow meowed.

"Then stop whining. I'm trying to sleep," Nightsong meowed from the other side of the den.

"Aren't you supposed to sleep in the medicine den?" Jaggedshadow asked.

"It's full, as is the guardians cave. So, for the time being, I will sleep here." Nightsong meowed as he stretched and then curled back into the nest.

Jaggedshadow stood up and found himself in the tunnel again. As he tried to climb the rock face, Jaggedshadow found it to be more slippery than he would have thought. He stepped upward and his feet lost their hold. Jaggedshadow got back up and shook the sand out of his fur. He leaped onto the rock face and began to climb. Jaggedshadow crawled slowly up the water-washed rock face, his claws gaining just enough purchase on the rock for his ascent. Jaggedshadow reached the top and walked along the tunnel until his paws began to ache.

He stopped walking and panted. Under his fur, a thin layer of sweat covered his skin. Jaggedshadow looked around. Despite his eye's adjustment to the dark, there was no light to reflect and thus, Jaggedshadow couldn't see anything.

His fur pricked up. It had grown ragged and dull from moons of neglect. Once striking stripes and bands of black and silver that split a background of sand-like tan fur, had long since lost their gloss. 

Jaggedshadow stood. His tunnel journey thus far had been tiring. Between the treacherous terrain, the dark coldness of the tunnels, and the haunting visions of his past, Jaggedshadow was exhausted. His sense of time had long since escaped him. There were no shifting shadows or patches of light to indicate the passing of the day. 


	7. Chapter 7

Jaggedshadow stepped down the tunnel. He had eaten two mice, a rat and a small rabbit, yet his hunger wasn't satisfied. He tossed the bones and fur aside. Jaggedshadow walked onward, surprised and impressed that he had caught prey. The ground sloped smoothly downward. 

He continued to walk, his head raised high. His kin, the skydwellers, had always been a proud family, well-known within NightClan for their size, strength and courage. Jaggedshadow glanced around. Despite his thick ragged fur, the cold damp air chilled his skin. Frost weighed on Jaggedshadow’s whiskers. His legs felt heavy, like they were made of stone. He stopped walking and looked down. 

Scars decorated his forelegs, crossing and criss-crossing each other in memory-laden patterns. Most of them, he had received in battle. The lion's fang mark rested on his right shoulder and two scars lay parallel to each other across his left.

Of Jaggedshadow's scars, the three over his right eye mattered most. Oakpelt had given them to Jaggedshadow on that fateful night during the height of the battle at hawk ridge, shortly before Jaggedshadow killed him. Jaggedshadow's face scars were one of the first things that cats seemed to notice when meeting him for the first time. Jaggedshadow looked up, frowning. He had been good friends with Oakpelt. 

Jaggedshadow began walking. He shook the frost off his whiskers. An ear flicked as something furry glided past. He swiped at it and his paw slammed into stone. He leaped backward, slamming into the tunnel wall. Jaggedshadow stood back up. Ignoring the throbbing pain in his back and forepaw, he limped down the path. Small rocks scraped his pads. 

Jaggedshadow walked around, feeling the rock around him. Having mapped a section of the tunnel, he swiped at the air. His paw hit the tunnel wall. Jaggedshadow stepped back and struck again, his strike meeting only air. 

"Let's see if I can strike farther." Jaggedshadow whispered to himself as he struck the air with his paw. He swung a foreleg diagonally downward. Successful, he stepped forward and swung his leg upward. He spun around.

Jaggedshadow threw a jab and swung his leg toward his other shoulder. He stamped his foot into the sand. Turning his head to look behind him, he kicked with a hind leg. Jaggedshadow reared up and slammed his forelegs against the sand. He turned around. Jaggedshadow stepped forward and swung his paw parallel to the sandy floor. Jaggedshadow stepped to the side as if dodging a strike and struck the air as if attacking an opponent's shoulder. He stepped forward and slashed up at an angle, then downward. Sand flew through the air, kicked up by Jaggedshadow’s paws as he jumped. Balancing shakily on his back legs, he jabbed forward with both forepaws. 

Back on all fours, he finished his impromptu practice session with a strong downward paw swipe that would temporarily cripple an opponent's shoulder. He began to walk down the path.


	8. Chapter 8

Sunlight shone on Jaggedshadow’s face, warming his head. His ears were warm from the light. Bird song and the occasional caw of a crow filled the air. Jaggedshadow laid down on the sand and began basking in the sun's warmth, which filtered through a hole. He lifted his head and began to purr. Wirthing playfully on the sand, he rolled onto his back. Some earth fell on him. Jaggedshadow looked up. A cat was looking down at him. Jaggedshadow stood up. It was a ginger tabby she-cat.

“Do you need help?” The ginger she-cat asked.

"No." Jaggedshadow turned around and dashed down the tunnel. His pace gradually slowed until it was almost to a standstill. His heart thumped violently in his chest and his lungs ached from the exertion. Jaggedshadow had never been good at running. His stamina was too pathetic to allow him to run for long. 

"I can do this on my own." His statement was more to convince himself than to clarify to others. 

Jaggedshadow was never one to admit defeat easily. Even if losing, he stubbornly refused to concede. His pride demanded nothing less of him. So he walked on, ignoring the pain in his legs and his growling belly. Light drifted into the tunnel from cracks and holes in the stone above his head. 

The walls of the tunnel had come closer together and Jaggedshadow's whisker-tips brushed the stone.

Jaggedshadow stopped walking and a crow flew overhead. Plague had often told Jaggedshadow to be wary of “the wind that arose from crow’s wings.'' Jaggedshadow had seldom been superstitious, but Plague was rarely wrong, so Jaggedshadow continued walking. 

Either Jaggedshadow’s legs no longer ached, or they had finally gone numb. Either way, he marched on. The path sloped downward, plunging Jaggedshadow into darkness once again. No prey turned up. But it did not matter, as the hunger pangs Jaggedshadow had felt had faded away. The tunnel narrowed once again, pressing Jaggedshadow’s whiskers flat against his face. The tunnel walls were smooth as if some river or stream had once run through it. 

Jaggedshadow entered a cave and stopped walking. He sat down. A small stream trickled down a rock face to his right. He hissed and the echo repeated several times before fading back into the silence from which it came. Jaggedshadow looked around in wonder. A mossy-green glow emitted from a stone in the center of the cavern. Translucent dark purple rocks with many sides grew off of the cavern walls. Jaggedshadow walked around. The cavern was large enough for twenty large cats to lay around the glowing stone. Four columns of smooth, clear stone stood against the walls. Tree roots interlaced above him. The glow suddenly went blue.

Jaggedshadow circled the glowing stone one more time and exited through a tunnel to his left. Making a mental note to visit the cavern again later, he walked down the tunnel. This path sloped upward under his paws. Precious little light pierced the vast narrow darkness through which Jaggedshadow walked. 

Jaggedshadow sat down and licked the dust off of a forepaw. It was dark, but at least the air was warmer than it had been earlier in the journey. He scratched at an itch behind his ear. 

Jaggedshadow stood up, wondering when he last ate. As if by a signal, Jaggedshadow picked up the scent of a hare. He prowled forward, placing each paw carefully on the stone so that they didn't make noise. The hare sat up, glancing around and sniffing the air. Jaggedshadow froze. He tensed his legs, preparing to leap. The hare blundered into Jaggedshadow’s grasp. Jaggedshadow jumped back, startled. Remembering that he was hunting, he leaped at the hare and sent it flying with a paw strike. Jaggedshadow approached his wounded prey and bit down. He sat. Jaggedshadow bent his neck to take a bite and received several kicks to the face. The hare ran away shrieking and squealing. 

Disappointed but entirely not surprised, Jaggedshadow looked around. He had always been terrible at hunting. The hare's shrieks must have scared away any other prey. Jaggedshadow took a step down the path. He would try for more prey later. He walked in darkness, his mouth opened to taste the air for prey-scent. No prey-scent drifted through the tunnel air, other than the hare’s. His suspicion confirmed, he closed his mouth and pricked his ears. Jaggedshadow listened intently for any sounds that might point out potential prey. Sounds of small far off scurrying creatures echoed faintly throughout the tunnels. Jaggedshadow stopped walking. He tried to focus on one source, but couldn't pinpoint any of them. Frustrated, he stormed down the path. All three of his former mentors had taught him to tread lightly, especially when hunting, but Jaggedshadow was too tired and too frustrated to care. 

He stared ahead, angered at his performance. At this rate, he might starve to death if he kept having such poor luck. He shook his head as if trying to clear the thought. His problem lay in his technique, not in luck. If there was one thing that Plague had taught Jaggedshadow, it was that one's path is rarely shaped by luck, or even by one's ancestors, but by one's choices and actions.


	9. Chapter 9

Jaggedshadow’s ears pricked up at the sound of flowing water. Perhaps he would have more skill at catching fish. He turned a corner. A stream flowed across a sunlit cave. Jaggedshadow leaped across the stream. He landed on a sandy bank and turned around, stepping back so that his shadow darkened the sand beside him and not the stream. Jaggedshadow's mother, Brambleshade, and her sister Ravenheart, had both taught him how to catch fish. However, Jaggedshadow hadn't practiced it in moons. Nonetheless, he was going to at least try.

Jaggedshadow stood as still as he could, remembering Brambleshade’s teachings. He could almost feel her tail brushing along his back, gently reminding him to keep still. He kept his gaze focused on the bottom of the stream. A streamlined silver shape drifted smoothly by. Jaggedshadow scooped his paw into the water. His paw hit stone; he had misjudged his strike placement. Specifically, he had undershot. Jaggedshadow sat down. It would be some time before fish would swim undisturbed in the stream. He looked into the water, planning his next strike. 

Jaggedshadow watched a small fish swim by. He struck at it with an upward–arcing strike, remembering to aim low. He overshot, only sending sand and water flying. The fish seemed to remain undisturbed. Jaggedshadow followed it downstream and struck, startling the fish away. 

He hissed and raked the sand with his claws. Jaggedshadow glared into the stream. He dropped onto his side and lay there. Although furious at his own incompetence, he was also exhausted and hungry, so he decided to sleep instead of brooding. 


	10. Chapter 10

Jaggedshadow awoke, shivering, to the sound of rushing water. His fur was soaked. He stood up and stretched. His side was bruised. Jaggedshadow looked around; the sand that he had slept on was wet. He stood next to a cave wall that stood several fox-lengths away from the place where he fell asleep. The stream had been widened significantly. Jaggedshadow walked across the stream. The cave must have flooded while he was asleep. Jaggedshadow left the cave. He shook the water out of his fur. Still dripping wet, he sauntered down the tunnel. He and his fluffed fur approached a light source. Shadows dappled the sunlit tunnel. Jaggedshadow looked around. There were three paths ahead of him. The first path led out of the tunnel. The second path smelled cold and musty and the third had no discernable scent. 

Jaggedshadow felt that his journey was far from over, so the path that led above the ground was no longer an option. The two remaining paths were equal in validity. Jaggedshadow stood at the place where the tunnel parted into three, weighing the pros and cons of each path. From the scent—Jaggedshadow had become good at locating things by scent alone—the left hand path seemed to lead farther into the ground. The right hand tunnel had a clearer scent and sloped downward and branched out to the left. Jaggedshadow took a step toward the left-hand tunnel and paused. Every decision that he made during his journey would affect the time that he was away from NightClan. He began to walk down the right hand tunnel. True to his senses, the path sloped under his feet.

Jaggedshadow looked around, sniffing for the tunnel branch. He reached the branch, and found the opening too narrow for him to fit through. He turned away and continued walking the path. A feather tickled Jaggedshadow’s nose and he sneezed. He looked down. It was a pheasant's tail feather. He sniffed it. The pheasant had been caught recently and something about the scent was vaguely familiar. Jaggedshadow looked up and walked cautiously forward, looking for other signs of life. The scent that he had smelled on the feather was that of a tomcat, not young, and definitely not in a great mood. The air prickled with anger and fear-scents. Jaggedshadow unsheathed his claws and flattened his ears against his head in preparation for a fight. 

He followed the scent trail, preparing to strike. Fear-scent, not anger, wafted through the cold air. A gray tom cowered in front of a rough nest. His fur was puffed up and he was crouched low, legs tensed to flee. Jaggedshadow approached the tom and sheathed his claws. The tom backed away, casting nervous glances around himself. Jaggedshadow stepped forward. The tom's green eyes widened and he spun around, fleeing the tunnel. 

Jaggedshadow sat down and shook his head. The old gray tom had clearly lived in that section of tunnel for a long time. Feathers, bones, and scraps of fur lay scattered around the tunnel floor. The nest -if it could be called a nest -was a pile of twigs, moss and feathers. 

Jaggedshadow looked around.There was no chance that he would find prey in that section of tunnel. It reeked too much of cat-sent. Jaggedshadow had two options at that point: continue walking down the path and hope to stumble across prey, or backtrack and hunt in an unfamiliar place. Jaggedshadow turned around and retraced his steps to the parting place. He longed for the sun’s warmth on his pelt. 

The light blinded Jaggedshadow, and because he had become accustomed to the cold of the tunnels, it warmed his pelt uncomfortably. Jaggedshadow walked toward an oak and an acorn hit his head. Jaggedshadow looked up. A squirrel sat atop a branch. Jaggedshadow leaped gracefully onto a lower branch. He studied the squirrel carefully, sittinging still so that he didn't startle it. 

Jaggedshadow leaped higher and the squirrel darted higher up the tree. Jaggedshadow gave chase, jumping between branches. The squirrel jumped onto the end of a thinner tree branch and sprang deftly into a pine tree. Jaggedshadow followed, leaping onto the thinner branch. He stepped foolishly toward the end of the branch. The branch snapped and Jaggedshadow fell. 

Jaggedshadow thrashed as he fell, hoping to stop himself from hitting the ground. His claws snagged a lower branch. Jaggedshadow swung, thrashing his tail and pawing at the branch to regain a hold. He hooked the branch with his hind legs and pulled himself up. Jaggedshadow dived onto a lower, sturdy branch. He ran down the tree trunk. On stable ground once again, he panted furiously. 

Jaggedshadow walked toward a pine tree. A bird rustled dead leaves. Jaggedshadow dropped into a hunting crouch. He stalked toward his mark, keeping his tail low and unmoving. The bird didn't seem to notice Jaggedshadow and continued nibbling at pine nuts. Jaggedshadow stepped forward and froze as the bird glanced wearily around, distracted by russiling pine needles. The bird resumed eating. It was a plump bird, just what he needed . Jaggedshadow prowled toward the bird, thankful that the pine needles didn't crunch underfoot. He prowled forward, his head low. 

Jaggedshadow stepped toward the bird, preparing to pounce. A sound rang through the air from beneath Jaggedshadow's paws. The bird flew into the air, screeching an alarm. Jaggedshadow threw himself into the air after the bird. 

Jaggedshadow landed on the bird's back, bringing them both down with his weight. The bird thrashed its wings. Jaggedshadow closed his jaws around the bird‘s neck and twisted his head, snapping the bird‘s neck. He sunk his teeth into the bird‘s flesh and tore a chunk out. He chewed it a bit. Jaggedshadow swallowed too quickly and he choked on his prey. He spat it onto a rock. Gasping, Jaggedshadow sat up. He couldn't let prey—much less prey that he caught—go to waste, so he devoured the pile of partially chewed meat, remembering to eat more carefully. 

Jaggedshadow finished his meal, casting the bird's feathers aside. He leaped through the tunnel entrance and landed on his hind paws, rolling forward to absorb the impact. Having eaten for the first time in two days, Jaggedshadow marched down the tunnel with new-found purpose in his strides. He re-entered the bent tunnel and walked past the old tom's nest. He walked farther down the tunnel, humming to himself.


	11. Chapter 11

Intense sunlight pierced the foliage that shaded parts of the camp. The high stone stood tall and defiant against the blazing sunlight, casting a cool shadow on the camp floor below. Three structures of mud-plastered sticks casted shadows of their own. Against the rearmost wall of the camp stood the largest den, which sheltered the nursing queens and their kits. The smallest den was the prey den; it stored NightClan’s fresh-kill. Twelve tail-lengths to the right of the nursery, the warriors den stood, casting a large shadow which cooled a younger Jaggedshadow. 

Cedartail's den stood across from the high stone, towering above the camp. A fallen tree bridged the gap between the two. The elders' den was a large cave in the camp wall. The prey den had been built next to the elders den so that the elders didn't need to cross the camp to get food. 

Jaggedshadow felt a tail rest on his back. He stood and turned around. Stoneclaw stood in front of him. 

"Jaggedshadow, go back into the nursery," Stoneclaw meowed.

"I want to explore outside camp," Jaggedshadow meowed, staring pleadingly at Stoneclaw's face. 

"You can do that when you are older," Stoneclaw meowed. Jaggedshadow's stare hadn't worked. 

"Okay then," Jaggedshadow conceded.

Jaggedshadow settled into the nest beside Brambleshade. "Where is Icefang?"

"He's on a hunting patrol," Stoneclaw meowed, shifting his stance. 

"Okay then," Jaggedshadow meowed. "Stoneclaw, I have something I've been meaning to tell you."

"Oh?" Stoneclaw sat down.

"There's a spirit who keeps talking to me." Jaggedshadow admitted.

"What does it tell you? Stoneclaw asked.

"His name is Plague," Jaggedshadow meowed, "he gives me advice."

"You have a guide." Stoneclaw meowed, "why didn't you tell me about this earlier?"

Jaggedshadow began to clean his shoulder. "I thought you would have noticed. And what's a guide, anyway?" 

"A guide,” Stoneclaw began, “is a NightClan ancestor who resides within a willing cat’s body. The spirit chooses a guardian to shield themself from being lost to time. In return, a guide gives their guardian wisdom, training, and in some cases, heals blindness or deafness."

"Can a guide heal all of a guardian’s impairments?"

"No. A guide can heal blindness, deafness, and also lameness, although it is rather rare," Stoneclaw meowed, pausing to clear his throat, "did you know that I was born blind?"

"Really?"

"Yes. Thanks to Frost, I can see. He did choose me somewhat later than usual though."

"Huh?"

"A guardian is usually chosen by a guide shortly after said guardian becomes a warrior. I, however, was already an experienced warrior when Frost chose me."

"Does this mean-"

"You are the youngest guardian I know of, younger even then Blackfoot." Stoneclaw meowed.

"Are there any other limits that I should know about?" 

"Frost tells me that there can be a maximum of seven guardians at a time, and that a guardian can have a maximum of four guides. And if Plague dies, your mind will be wrended."

"How many guardians are there right now?"

"Four including you and I. Brambleshade's sister, Ravenheart, and Leafwhisker's eldest son, Rainfall, are the other guardians." 

"Is that why I haven't seen any of you three leave the warriors den?"

"Yes, it is." Stoneclaw meowed, "the guardians cave is beside the entrance tunnel. The entrance to the guardians cave is a gap in the camp wall. When you become an apprentice, you'll sleep in the guardians cave."

"What if I'm apprenticed to a warrior who isn't a guardian?"

"Then Ravenheart or I will have to figure something out with them." Stoneclaw meowed, "although I doubt Cedartail would do something so stupid as assigning a guardian apprentice to a normal warrior."

"Has it happened before?" 

"Yes it has. One of the NightClan's worst leaders was a guardian who was trained as a normal warrior," Stoneclaw meowed to Jaggedshadow.

"Blackfoot?"

"Yes. In terms of cruelty and disloyalty, Blackfoot was second only to Jay's Song. In terms of poor leadership, he was second only to Whitepine."

"Jay's Song?" Jaggedshadow asked.

"Jay's Song was a cruel tyrant who wouldn't hesitate to turn on a Clanmate if he saw them as a threat. Especially if they dared challenge his authority."

"What happened to him, and why haven't I heard of him before?"

"A bout of blackcough killed him," Stoneclaw meowed, "He was one of nightClan's earliest leaders, so I don't doubt that he has faded away." 

Jaggedshadow began to scratch behind an ear. "Doesn't thinking about a spirit contribute to their memory?"

"Yes, but I'm certain that our ancestors have him under control. Besides, not many know about Jay's Song."

Jaggedshadow's stomach turned into a cold pit. Others had told him that his father would return, but his feelings told him otherwise. "Where's Icefang?"

"He should be back by moonhigh," Stoneclaw meowed, casting a glance at Nightsong’s sleeping figure.

"What if Icefang doesn't come back?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Stoneclaw meowed, standing and stepping back, "he will return."

  
Back in the present, Jaggedshadow reflected on the vision. He had been wrong that day. Icefang  _ had _ returned to NightClan. Unfortunately, he hadn't returned until three days before Jaggedshadow's warrior ceremony. Jaggedshadow wished that Icefang could have lived to see it, but at the same time, he knew that Cedartail would have found another opportunity to kill Icefang.


	12. Chapter 12

A wolf sat tall under an ancient pine tree. He was short for his age, and sturdily built. His fur was long, fine, and dark as the midnight sky. His eyes were like twin full moons. He stood.

A small grayish-brown shape drifted slowly toward Æri, increasing in size as he circled gently into the clearing before landing, wings flapping. It was Fenn ( **AN:** Fen), who just finished his daily border rounds. Fenn folded his wings against his back. Æri's eldest son of only seven moons old, Fenn was a strong young wolf, large for his age. His back was coloured with a splash of dark gray. 

"Fien, go to Tree Den," Æri said, "bring prey to our guests, then meet me at Broad Oak." 

Fenn nodded. He turned and ran eastward to the Tree Den, where Æri's sister, Riverpelt, and an old she-fox named Dawn lived. Riverpelt had given birth to a small litter of beautiful kits not two days ago.

Æri began walking to the Broad Oak soon after Fenn had left. He was proud of his family. His daughter Keo (AN: Key-oh), and his sons Fien, Ellyk ( **AN:** El-lick **)** ; and Vargir ( **AN:** Wargir) were no fools when it came to the hunt. They had learned quickly to hunt, and it showed in their skill and coordination. Æri and his family were almost always fed, even during the colder months when prey was scarce. 

Æri stepped towards the broad oak. He and his family often gathered beneath the tree when a serious matter had to be decided upon. This was one such matter. A disease had been plaguing the family since the full moon. Æri himself had fought off an infection. Ellyk, Vargir, and Æri's mother, Ro-niath, had caught the sickness shortly before him. The wolves had to decide what had to be done. Æri pointed his muzzle towards the sky. He would call the meeting this time.

Æri took a breath and stared skyward, studying the stars in the night sky. He opened his mouth and howled, letting the cool night air carry his voice. He held a steady note, letting more and more breath out until the howl tapered back into the silence that preceded it. Behemoth and Fenn answered the call then Keo, then Azlune, and finally Vargir. They would be in the clearing shortly. Æri was sure that their howls would be heard and felt for leagues. Æri lowered his muzzle until it was level with the ground. With the howl finished, the meeting could begin, once the others arrived.

Æri stepped closer to the clearing in which the others would gather. He sat on a rock, wondering what he would say. To his surprise, Vargir arrived first. The young wolf must have been close when he had howled, otherwise he would not have been there at that moment. 

Fenn and Keo burst into the clearing a few moments after Vargir, panting furiously. Azlune walked into the clearing moments after them, and Behemoth ran into the clearing several moments after, making a hasty apology for his lateness as he sat down. 

Æri cleared his throat before asking the crucial question. "What can be done about this sickness?"

Keo was the first to respond to Æri's challenge. "Perhaps we ask for help?"

"Possible," Æri said, "NightClan might agree to help." 

"They might be willing, but we do need other options in case they aren't," said Ellyk. 

"Do you have the needed knowledge, father?" Fenn asked Æri.

Æri paused before answering, considering his options. He could have lied, making him seem more powerful for a while, which would carry the risk of killing members of the family. He decided that he would tell the truth. The health and safety of his family was too important to risk for the sake of foolish pride. 

Æri opened his eyes and shook his head sadly. "No. That knowledge is lost to me."

Fenn stood. "Who is going to ask NightClan? And when are they leaving?"

"The party will leave tomorrow during mid high-arc. Who will be on it will be decided," Æri said, standing. 

The others stood. The meeting had ended. Æri leaped away from the clearing, eager to sleep.

A day was divided into three parts: High-Arc, Sunhigh, and Low-Arc. High-Arc was the portion of the day between Sunrise and Sunhigh; also known as Midday. Low-Arc was the portion of the day between Sunhigh and Sunset. 

The pack's main sleeping place was a spacious cave. The cave floor was a massive smooth-topped gray rock. The cave walls were made of porous black stone that had eroded to form the walls. Azlune had discovered the cave by accident, after she had chased a deer through a wild rosebush. Æri walked into the cave, stopping in the center. He turned around and layed down, closing his eyes as he tucked his tail in over his hind paws. Sleep slipped over Æri like a sudden wind.

He awoke. Ellyk's muzzle rested on his flank. Azlune's chin rested on his shoulder. Æri rarely dreamed. When he did dream, his dreams were either hellish nightmares, or peaceful visions in which an old wolf gave him fatherly advice. 

Æri wiggled out from under Ellyk's and Azlune's faces, careful not to wake them. They would awake on their own time. Æri sat beside a boulder and turned his head eastward to watch the sunrise. 

The sun was rising above the horizon, painting the early high-arc sky with shades of crimson and amber. Light scattered off wispy frost-like clouds and turned into rosy pinks and amethyst purples. Clouds melted under the sun, leaving a rich blue sky. A northern wind chilled Æri’s ears and nose. An eagle soared overhead, followed by a raven. Æri stood. 

"You're awake early." Azlune said, "worried about asking NightClan?"

"How do you know?" Æri asked her.

"You tense when they're mentioned."

"I am not sure how we will be received."

"What's the worst that could happen?"

"War." 

"War?" Azlune echoed. 

"I left NightClan swearing revenge," Æri said, "They might think our visit to be an attack." 

"Are there any other potential complications?"

"Yes. I am not on best terms with NightClan’s leader," Æri said, "and he has the support of his Clan."

"Okay, then," Azlune said, "who do you think should go?"

"You and I."

"Fenn and Keo should go with us."

"I do not know if that is a good idea."

"It could be a good experience for them."

"That," Æri said, "I agree with. Besides, I imagine Ro-niath wants some peace and quiet. Shall we wear feathers?" 

"Yes."

"What kind?’

"You should wear a jay’s, or a raven’s feather beside your left ear," she said, "and an eagle’s feather tilted forward, next to it. I shall wear a raven’s feather beside my left ear. Keo shall wear a jay or raven feather beside her left ear, and Fenn shall wear either a raven feather, or one of his feathers."

Æri nodded. The placement, number of, type, origin, and color of feathers carried different meanings. For example, a single hawk feather, when tucked in the fur to the right of one's right ear was a declaration of war, and also a charm for strength in combat. A raven’s, jay’s, or hawk's feather, when placed in the right side fur of one's left ear, was a charm for clarity of mind, and patience. Two hawk or crow feathers tucked in the fur to the right side of the right ear was an announcement of reluctance or remorse. A single feather of any kind, other than a hawk's, or a dove's, when placed in the fur to the right of the right ear, was a charm for good luck and safe travels. A dove feather, when placed in the fur to the right side of one's right ear, was an announcement of peaceful intent. 

The angle at which a feather was placed didn't matter in most cases. The only exceptions to this rule were raven and eagle feathers. When pointed backward, raven feathers were a sign of mourning. An eagle feather tilted backward was a sign of one who has knowledge of the use of healing herbs and/or poisons. An eagle feather tilted forward was a sign of a powerful warrior and/or a noble leader.

"Actually, I'd like to wear a hawk feather," Keo said, "as it will look better on me."

  
  
  


"Shall I wake Fien?" Keo asked.

Fenn emerged from the tunnel, stretching his wings. "No need."

“Keo, go to the feather cave and retrieve two raven feathers, an eagle feather, a bluejay feather, and a hawk feather,” Azlune said.

"Yes Azlune." Keo sprang away. She returned only moments later with the five feathers. Placing them on a rock before Azlune, she stepped back.

Azlune stood. She picked the hawk feather up by the broad end. Walking over to Keo, Azlune tapped her daughter's forehead and placed the feather behind her left ear. Keo nodded. 

Fenn placed a feather in front of himself. Azlune walked over to Fenn and picked it up by the broad end. She nodded upward. Fenn lifted his head. Azlune tapped his chest with the feather, and placed it behind his left ear. Fenn stepped back.

Azlune lifted a bluejay feather from the rock. She walked to Æri. She tapped his chest and face. She placed it behind his ear. Æri sat, bowing his head. With great care, Azlune picked up the eagle feather. She placed it beside the bluejay feather, tilting it toward her. Azlune walked backward until the rock was between them.

Æri stood. He walked toward Azlune, and picked the raven feather up off of the rock. Azlune nodded. Æri tapped her chest and face with the feather and placed it beside her left ear.

The place that a feather giver tapped with a feather during a feather placing ceremony was indicative of the recipient's best quality or attribute in the feather-giver's opinion. For example, a chest touch meant that the feather-giver thought the recipient to be kind, compassionate, courageous, passionate, or stubborn. A touch to the head meant that the feather-giver thought the recipient to be intelligent, wise or crafty. A tap on the face could mean numerous things, but it usually meant excellent eyesight or good looks. 

Æri nodded eastward. "Let us go."


	13. Chapter 13

Fenn arrived at the border first, followed by Æri, then Keo and Azlune. Æri sat down, waiting for a patrol to notice them. The others did the same.

The day had climbed into early low-arc and the wolves were getting restless. They had been waiting for hours, yet no one greeted them. This was not entirely surprising to Æri, since NightClan seemed to patrol its borders more sparsely with each passing day.

Fenn stood, wings flapping in annoyance. “Do they even patrol their borders?”

“Yes they do, but less than I remember,” Æri told Fien.

“When was their last patrol?” 

“Sunhigh.”

Presently, a small band of NightClan warriors came near. The patrol, as NightClan called patrolling bands, was composed of four warriors. A breeze carried the warrior's scents to Æri, revealing that Shattered Oak, Moondusk, Rainfur, and Flamesong were on the patrolling band. Æri lifted his chin. Moondusk would be the cat to talk to, as he had been Æri's closest friend prior to Æri's banishment. 

Æri took two steps toward the scent-line. "Moondusk, we come in peace. Will you take us to your camp?"

"Who are you, and how do you know my name?" Moondusk asked Æri, backing away. 

"I am Æri, son of Ro-niath. My name was once Pineheart."

In the pack, who one was related to didn't matter much. Æri had mentioned his mother's name as part of his title because, to NightClan, one’s parentage did matter. 

Moondusk stepped toward the border. "Come along, then."

NightClan’s territory had not changed much since Æri’s banishment. New saplings had sprouted, and an old oak had fallen. The oak had fallen during a particularly violent storm. When it was still standing, the oak was often used for teaching apprentices how to climb trees.

The going was slower than Æri was used to. He and the other wolves had to take tiny steps so that they didn't pass or trample Moondusk or the cats in the NightClan patrolling band. Æri walked behind and to the right of Moondusk. The wolves walked behind their escorts with raised tails, lifted chins, and ears that were pointed forward like Æri's eagle feather. 

Æri looked around, searching for the entrance tunnel. He soon found it. The entrance tunnel was a large crater-like hole that sat beneath a stately oak. The tunnel was just large enough for him to fit through with folded ears. Azlune was not as fortunate, and had to bow her head to fit through. Keo, Moondusk, Rainfur, Flamesong, Shattered Oak and Fenn fitted through just fine, of course. Being large had its advantages, but fitting in confined spaces and catching smaller, more perceptive prey weren't the best examples of them. 

The few cats who were in the clearing stopped mid-lick, staring at their visitors with shocked gazes. Æri shrugged and headed toward the Nightsong’s den. He had more concerning affairs to worry about than casual gossip.

Æri paused at the medicine den’s entrance. Nightsong was sound asleep. Æri didn't want to wake Nightsong, as he knew how important Nightsong's sleep was to him. Nightsong must have worked late into the night to still be asleep. Æri sat beside the den’s entrance. He didn't have a massive amount of time, but he didn't want to disturb Nightsong’s slumber. 

Æri looked around the camp. Whitestripe, and a young looking, thick-set black-stripped tom, were grooming each other next to the warriors den and talking. Æri grinned. He was glad that even his most vehement former enemies were living well. Across the camp, Rainfur was basking in the sunlight. 

A heated stare pierced Æri’s thick fur. Æri looked up. Cedartail was giving him his usual scowl. Æri’s hackles rose and he fought to suppress a growl. He returned Cedartail’s glare with an inquisitive glance. He and Cedartail had been enemies since he had become Cedartail's apprentice. Æri had never seeked Cedartail's anger, and he had tried, on countless occasions, to befriend the spiteful tyrant. 

Nightsong stirred in his nest. Æri turned around and stepped toward Nightsong. 

Nightsong leaped out of his nest and stumbled backward. "P-Pineheart?"

Æri nodded. "My name is Æri now."

"Why are you here?" Nightsong asked Æri.

"Three members of my family are ill."

"I'll have to ask Cedartail to go with you.”

“You and I both know how  _ massively _ likely it is that he will agree,” Æri muttered, his words dripping with sarcasm. 

“True, but here's to hoping.”

"Where is Jaggedshadow?"

"He and Stoneclaw are performing a ceremony."

“And what of Brambleshade?”

“I haven't seen her all day.”

Fenn nudged Æri’s flank. It was time to leave. Æri turned his head, nodding at Fien. He turned his head toward Nightsong. “Greet them both for me when you get chance.”

"I will." Nightsong nuzzled Æri’s foreleg. “Goodbye for now.”

Æri nodded. Turning away, he followed Keo and Fenn out of the camp. Azlune walked beside him. 

“Cedartail didn't give me a definite answer,” Moondusk meowed once they had left the camp.

“I will wait at the border for an answer,” Æri said. 

“Are you sure?” Azlune asked Æri. “It might not be the best option.”

“I am,” Æri said, “Waiting at the border  _ could _ have risks, but the benefits outweigh the risks in this case.”

“When will you return with an answer?” Azlune asked Moondusk.

“Sunhigh tomorrow, or in two days at dawn."

Æri nodded. Those times would allow great flexibility in his mostly non-existent schedule. Those times also meant that Æri would have an idea of when Moondusk would be back with an answer. Ergo, he wouldn't have to wait for days on end for an answer that might never come. 

It also meant that he could spend more time with Azlune. Æri genuinely enjoyed her company. Azlune was like a cool northern breeze, a comfort in uncertain times, and a caring partner. Azlune had helped Æri through a confusing and painful period of his life. Often, just being in Azlune's presence could turn a bad day into a passable, or even an amazing one. 

Æri began clearing sticks and rocks from a patch of ground. By the time he finished, the sun was beginning to drop below the horizon. No one had told him not to sleep, and it would be foolish to try to stay awake the whole time. He had been making a sleeping place for himself. Azlune, Keo, and Fenn had continued walking to the sleeping place.

Æri laid on his earthen nest. The coal-black sky was pierced by shafts of starlight. He closed his eyes.

Æri awoke to Keo nudging his shoulder. The sky was still dark. Æri turned over, stretching as he fell back asleep. Keo walked over to the other side of Æri and prodded his ribs. 

Æri sat up. “What want?” 

“I brought you a hare,” Keo told Æri.

“I thank you.”

Keo nodded. She sat beside a bush.

“Why awake?”

“I couldn't sleep.”

“Go back to cave," Æri said, "Sleep. You will need your energy for hunting tomorrow. We will need extra prey for Nightsong.”

The pack often fed guests, especially if they'd be staying for a while. It was just good manners. The pack's territory had one clearly defined border. It was an Eastern border with NightClan. In fact, NightClan, or rather Cedartail, was the only reason that the pack even patrolled any borders. Æri didn't trust Cedartail, and neither did Azlune.

“Okay.” Keo stood. “Enjoy the hare, and your sleep.”

Æri nodded. Keo turned around and began walking to the cave. Æri sank his teeth into the hare. It was delicious. The hare was plump, and it's flesh carried subtle earthy notes. Before Æri knew it, all that was left of the hare was scraps of fur. It had taken him six bites. It would have taken fewer bites, but he had been trying to enjoy the food, and he had. 

Æri began grooming his fur. Pausing, he reflected on the last few days. Things had been quiet, too quiet even for a peace-loving creature like Æri. Besides the argument about the border line several days ago, and the sickness, not much had happened. Since starting the pack with Azlune, Æri had lived in relative peace. These last few days however, had been unnaturally peaceful, and that made Æri feel uneasy. 

Æri laid down once again. He closed his eyes for the third time that night. As he drifted further and further out of consciousness, Æri stretched his legs. 

Æri stood, shaking the dust out of his fur. Blinking against the sun, he opened his eyes. He began walking to the sleeping cave. Once he arrived there, he, Azlune, Keo and Fenn would turn a shallow cave in a nearby rock face into a makeshift den. They would likely use large forked branches for the frame, dead brambles for the walls, and mud from a river that flowed nearby to windproof it.

Æri glanced around himself as he walked. He spotted a large forked dead branch that leaned against a large rock. He sank his teeth into the broad end of the branch and lifted. With a mighty pull, he tore the branch off of the tree. He let go, clamped his jaws around the middle of the branch, and walked toward the rock face. The branch wasn't much of a burden to Æri, except that he had to twist and turn his head to avoid the branch snagging bushes, or getting wedged against trees. 

Once he arrived at the cave in the rock face, he dropped the branch. He began to break the massive branch into smaller, more useful pieces. Glancing around the clearing, he spotted numerous other useful sticks, and branches. 

“Will those be enough?” Azlune asked Æri.

Æri looked up. Azlune stood before him. He stepped closer to her. “No.”

“What else will we need for the den?” 

“I will gather more sticks and branches. We also need brambles, and mud.”

“Good. Keo, Fien, and I will handle the brambles.”

Æri nodded. Walking to an oak tree, he grabbed a few sticks in his jaws and walked back over to the wood pile that he had started. He dropped the sticks. He walked over to a pine tree and began the process again. 

After a while, Æri walked over to the stream. He bent down and lapped at the slow-moving water. The cool, crisp water refreshed his thrust and dulled his hunger. That stream flowed from a pool deep in NightClan territory. Æri stepped back. He was becoming quite hungry, so he would try to catch a few fish. He took another step back. He didn't want his shadow to frighten the fish. 

Æri had adapted Brambleshade’s teachings to his limitations as a wolf. The way that Brambleshade had taught him to fish was to wait motionless beside the shore of the body of water that he was fishing in, and hook unsuspecting fish out of the water with his claws, killing them. This had, for the longest time worked for him, but his claws were not as sharp as they once were. Instead, he either smashed the fish against the river bottom, used a carefully pre-made trap, or thrusted his head into the water depending on the depth of the water. In that case, the stream was too shallow for him to use his jaws directly. 

Æri threw a foreleg into the stream. His paw struck a fish and pinned it to the stream bottom. He scooped with his paw and tossed it into his jaws. He chewed and swallowed. Spotting another fish, he shot a paw into the stream. He tossed it into his jaws and devoured it. After repeating this process a few more times, Æri walked away from the stream. 

As Fenn and Azlune returned to the cave laden with brambles both dead and alive, Æri arrived at the cave with another load of sticks, twigs, and branches. He dropped them on the pile. 

Æri stopped walking in front of Azlune. "There are enough branches and sticks, but more brambles are needed." 

"Keo is bringing a load of brambles, and I will fetch one as well." 

"Good," Æri said, "and I will bring a load as well. Once we return, we will build this den."

Azlune nodded, and together she and Æri walked over to the bramble patch. Once there, Azlune walked to a larger patch several paces east of the main patch. Æri stopped walking. He bent down, seized a bush by the stem, and tore it out of the ground. Turning around, he marched toward the cave. Æri dropped the bush. A great pile had formed beside an oak.

Æri seized one of the longer straight pieces of wood and shoved it into a crack in the rock face. He wedged stones into the crack. The den, once completed, would be a large mud-clad wedge, jutting from the rock face. After the frame was built, brambles would be twisted and packed together to form the den's walls. After all this was done, mud would be spread over the brambles.

Fenn pushed the forked end of a branch against the horizontal post. Azlune dug a hole. Fenn placed the end of the stick in the hole. He buried the stick's end and packed the earth down. One pace to the right, Keo and Æri were doing the same thing on the other side of the frame.

Æri walked to the wood pile and bent his neck. He grabbed several sticks. He walked back to the construction site for the new den. 

Æri dropped half of the sticks before Azlune, walked to the other side of the den frame, and dropped the other half before Keo. He picked one up and set the forked end in place next to the first support sturt. Keo dug a hole. Æri placed the un-forked end into the hole. 

Keo returned the earth into the hole, packing it down. “So, what’s Nightsong to you?”

“A brother,” Æri told Keo as he dug a hole for the next strut.

“But he’s...” she trailed.

"Although Nightsong and I were raised together, we are brothers by choice, not by birth." Æri grabbed a stick. He was about to put it in place, but a pronged stick already leaned against the frame. He pushed earth into the hole and stomped with his forelegs to pack it. He pushed the prong of the stick against the horizontal branch.

"Do you miss him?" Keo dug a hole and buried the end of the stick.

Æri dug a hole, put a pronged stick in place, and buried the end of the stick. "Yes. It will be great having him here."

"What other NightClan cats do you miss?" Keo dug a hole. She placed the stick against the horizontal post.

"My brother, Jaggedshadow," Æri said, burying the end of the last stick. "My mother, Brambleshade, and my friend, Moondusk."

"Isn't Ro-niath your mother?"

"Yes," Æri said, "but I suppose I have two mothers. Both Brambleshade and Ro-niath taught me important lessons during different eras of my life." 

Once the frame was built, and in place, Azlune placed a large bramble bush on top of the frame. Æri placed a bramble bush on the other side, and Fenn climbed on top of the den. He weaved the bramble branches together at the den's ridge. 

Æri placed another bush on the frame below the first so that it overlapped the previous one. He weaved and twisted the branches together. After this, he placed two more bushes to the left of the first two in the same manner. Fenn weaved the bramble branches together at the den's ridge. 

Æri sat. With the dens frame and walls in place, they only needed to coat the outside of the den with mud. He stood and began to walk to the river bank. It would take a long time, and many trips back-and-forth to finish the job. 

"How are we going to finish spreading the mud in a timely manner?" 

"Sticks," Æri said. "it will still be tedious, but it's the only good option." He weaved strips of birch bark around and between the prongs of a spare stick. He repeated this three more times. 

Fien, Azlune, Æri and Keo grabbed their sticks. They walked to the riverbank. Scooping mounds of thick mud with their sticks, they walked, holding the sticks level to the ground. Once they reached the den, they split back into two groups, one group of two on each side. Æri poured the mud on the top of the sloped walls, near the top ridge. Once this was done, Æri reached up and smeared the mud downward. He went over the mud with long diagonal strokes. Once he finished, he glanced at Fien's work. He stepped back. 

Æri stepped to his left. "Spread the mud more even. Use lighter strokes with your paw."

"Like this?" Fenn spreaded the mud downward, covering each branch with mud.

"Not quite." Æri stepped toward the wall. "Watch carefully." He placed his paw on the mud and brought it to the ground with one smooth stroke. He stepped back. "Take your time. Do not be afraid to use small strokes.”

"Thank you for your advice." Fenn reached up and began to stroke the frame as if painting it with mud. 

Æri nodded. He walked back to his side of the den wall, and spreaded the uppermost bit of mud upward onto the crest of the den.

Æri grabbed his stick and walked to the river. Scooping another load, he walked to the den. He poured the mud onto the den wall. He spreaded the mud over the previous layer with his paw, careful to keep an even coat. Once he finished, he stepped back, taking a look at Fien's work. It was nigh-perfect. All but the uppermost branches were covered in a smooth, even coat of mud. Fien's stick was missing. He must have gone to get another load of mud. Æri reached up and smeared the pile of mud onto the dens crest. 

Fenn returned, and sure enough, his jaws were closed around his mud stick, which was laden with a huge pile of mud. He poured the mud onto the wall. He and Æri spreaded the mud over the den. Once they finished, Æri entered the den. They had all done an excellent job. The den would have been pitch-black, if it wasn't for the entrance. 

Æri left the den. He walked to a pine tree and turned around to look at the den. It was finished, except that mud needed to dry. 


	14. Chapter 14

Jaggedshadow began to clean his wounds. He resumed walking, panting furiously. He had killed a fox a few moments ago. He had stumbled upon the fox while following a particularly large and plump mouse. 

Jaggedshadow's wounds stung with each movement, but he couldn't stop. He needed to finish his journey. His ear twitched as a sudden cold draft rushed into the tunnel. Jaggedshadow had been walking for what felt like moons, getting little sleep, and eating little food in the process. His legs hurt. He stopped walking and sat. His stomach was a boiling cauldron of pain that was threatening to explode. He gagged, and spat onto the stony floor beneath himself, trying not to puke.

He bent down and retched violently, coughing. Chunks of partially digested meat and water spewed from his mouth. Jaggedshadow braced himself. His chest was pushing a second wave. 

He spat, hoping in vain to prevent another wave of vomit. He arched his back. A tide of vomit erupted from his open mouth, spilling onto a puddle on the cold stony floor. Jaggedshadow retched again, and with one final heave, the rest of the contents of his stomach spewed from his open mouth in one long putrid tide. He stepped back. He dropped to the ground. Standing, Jaggedshadow listened for the sound of flowing water. He heard an echoed rushing sound. There was a stream not far from him. 

Jaggedshadow rounded a turn. The stream had turned out to be a small river. He bent down and lapped at the river. Lifting his head, he spat out the water. He took another drink to rinse his mouth and throat. He gurgled the water. He spat onto some sand. He repeated this process a few more times, until he had rinsed the fowl taste from his mouth. 

After this, Jaggedshadow lapped furiously at the stream. He needed to quench his thirst. He swallowed another gulp of water. He stood.

Jaggedshadow looked around. He was in a large cave. Faint light came through a tunnel to his right, and through a small hole in the rocky ceiling. A beam of light showed a high rock ledge. The cave showed many signs that it had once been used quite often. For example: the sandy floor was peppered with paw prints, and a few tufts of fur lay scattered across the cave floor. Three of the tufts were long and golden. The other two tufts were brown and shorter. 

The golden tufts smelled foresty, and Jaggedshadow could tell that they belonged to a powerful tom of similar age to himself. The faint scent of the golden tufts shared an odd similarity to Jaggedshadow's own scent, yet smelled vastly different. The scent had a strangely welcoming quality that surprised him.

The brown tufts belonged to a she-cat. they smelled of grass, heather and sky. Jaggedshadow sat, wondering who these cats were, and what purpose the cave had. He shrugged. It didn't matter. The cave had clearly not been used recently, and he needed to get home.

Jaggedshadow stood. He walked around the cave, looking and sniffing for the best way out. There were three paths before him that seemed to lead out. 

The left-hand tunnel seemed to be the most direct path. The central tunnel seemed to lead farther, but it didn't seem to turn, widen, or narrow much. In fact, Jaggedshadow could trace it's path for quite some distance. The right-hand tunnel was a mess. It continued farther down, widening, narrowing, twisting and turning until Jaggedshadow could no longer discern it's direction or length. Jaggedshadow started down the left-side tunnel. He didn't want to walk much more than necessary. Also, the sooner that he ate some prey, the better. 

Jaggedshadow stepped out of the tunnel. His journey was, at long last, finished. He was free.


	15. Chapter 15

Jaggedshadow marched through the rocky grassland. Although he could see Star Place in the distance, he paced himself. He wanted to finish his journey strong. 

Jaggedshadow halted abruptly. It would not do to arrive in the NightClan Camp half-starved to death. He dropped into a hunting crouch; he spied a pheasant. Stalking toward it, he watched it with care. Once Jaggedshadow was almost within striking range of the pheasant, his paw fell on a twig and snapped it. The pheasant flew away, startling a rabbit from behind a rock. 

Despite his immense hunger, and growing impatience, Jaggedshadow could not risk getting any more hungry. He walked forward, looking for other prey to stalk. 

Jaggedshadow stalked toward a mouse. It was big and plump-looking, but most importantly, it was nibbling on a grass seed, completely unaware of the looming predator that stood almost motionless behind it. Jaggedshadow stepped toward the mouse, carefully feeling for any rocks or twigs that might give his position away. He set his paw down. Jaggedshadow froze. The wind had shifted, and the mouse had turned its head in Jaggedshadow's direction. Jaggedshadow held his body as still as he could. The mouse's small beady eyes peered at him. Jaggedshadow stepped toward the mouse once it looked away.

A sparrow dive-bombed Jaggedshadow's ear, causing his ear to flip inside-out. Seething in pain, Jaggedshadow leaped backward. Seeing this, the mouse scampered away, kicking up a trail of dust as it ran. 

Jaggedshadow sighed, pushing his ear in place with a hindpaw. He shook his head to regain his balance. He began walking toward a small birch. A wood pigeon was perched on a lower branch. If Jaggedshadow could prowl close enough, he would be able to make the leap. Jaggedshadow stepped toward the wood pigeon, choosing his foot placements with care. Fortune seemed to smile upon Jaggedshadow, and the wood pigeon did not notice him. 

Jaggedshadow tensed his powerful hindlegs, gazing at his target as he prepared for a massive leap. Pushing his hind paws against the ground, he launched himself at the wood pigeon. Just before Jaggedshadow reached his prey, a hawk seized the wood pigeon in its talons, carrying it away as Jaggedshadow fell to the ground. He had made a massive miscalculation in his leap.

_ Othtor help me! _ Jaggedshadow thought, continuing to plummet back-first toward the ground. No help came, and Jaggedshadow was left to fall. He landed with a thump on his side. He stood. His ribs weren't broken, they were just bruised. 

Jaggedshadow's exclamation had been redundant, as he had abandoned that faith a long time since. It had been a reflex from a period of time when he still believed. Othtor was the protector of Caelum (An: Kai-loom), NightClan's afterlife. In Jaggedshadow's mind, once one died, they were gone forever. He did not believe in either Othtor or Caelum.

Jaggedshadow walked to a nearby shrub. His left side, including his shoulder, and his hip on that side, hurt with each step that he took. He needed to rest.

Laying among the tall green grass stems, which terminated in spikes of seeds, Jaggedshadow brought his legs stiffly in. Once he rested enough, he would be able to walk with some more freedom of motion. Jaggedshadow closed his eyes. He drew a long, deep breath into his chest through his nose. Once his lungs stung, he opened his mouth and began to let the breath slip away, careful to not exhale too fast. Jaggedshadow drew another breath, and, after holding it in for a few moments, released it. Jaggedshadow drew in a third breath. Before he knew it, he had fallen asleep.

Jaggedshadow stood. His side felt a lot better, but it still hurt, although to a lesser degree than before. He walked out of the shrub’s shade. He glanced at the sky. The sun was beginning to drop below the horizon, casting ephemeral sunbeams as the light faded. Jaggedshadow needed to hurry if he wanted to meet Stoneclaw at Star Place before nightfall. 

He gritted his teeth, and began to run. Jaggedshadow never was one to run long distances without tiring. He could either slow his pace to preserve his strength and energy. Or, he could sprint intermittently as usual until he arrived at his destination. 

Jaggedshadow slowed his pace almost to a stop. This sprinting thing worked, but it aggravated his bruised ribs. His usual method of running was to sprint furiously for as long as possible, stopping only to give his lungs rest. This would have worked for Jaggedshadow, and it usually did; but his ribs were bruised, and he still had a long way to travel. He continued walking. His lungs and ribs still hurt from his last burst of speed. From then, until he arrived at Star Place, he would have to run at a slower, but more consistent pace than his usual sprints.

Jaggedshadow paused. He could no longer continue his quest without food. His last three attempts to catch prey had only made him even more hungry than before.

His ear turned as a rabbit scampered to a stop behind him. Jaggedshadow cautiously turned to face his prey, making sure that his paws did not land on anything noisy. He began to stalk through the tall grass. The rabbit lumbered toward Jaggedshadow, unaware of his presence. Jaggedshadow threw himself at the rabbit. If he had timed his leap correctly, he would catch the rabbit. If not, then all he would get would be a facefull of grass stems and soil. 

He landed on top of the rabbit. He had timed the leap well. The rabbit struggled, but Jaggedshadow sank his teeth into its neck, piercing it's spine. The rabbit went limp.

He stood up. He froze. He stood for what felt like hours. Without warning, Jaggedshadow leaped forward and tore the rabbit to shreds, leaning down to devour it, moving with vicious speed as if he were rabbid.

With the edge takin off of his appetite, Jaggedshadow sped toward Star Place. He had little time to waste. Stoneclaw was likely waiting for him. 

Jaggedshadow stepped into the clearing. The cleaning was lit only by the moon's silver light. Jaggedshadow could not see Stoneclaw, but he could trace his former mentor's scent trail. It led toward the NightClan Camp. There were no other scent trails leading that way.

In the clearing, sound asleep beside the pool, were seven cats. The two closest to Jaggedshadow, a she-cat and a smaller gray tabby tom, had a similar scent to the faint smell of the golden tufts. Across from them, were two cats who had a similar scent to the brown tuft. The scents of the other three cats were muddled together. Jaggedshadow turned away, wondering who these cats were, and what they were doing at Star Place. He walked around the outside of the clearing. The answer to his question did not matter to him. All that mattered to Jaggedshadow in that moment was finding Stoneclaw. 

As soon as Jaggedshadow was sure that he would not be heard, he ran, tracing Stoneclaw's scent trail. Not long after Jaggedshadow had begun to run, he detected a sudden turn in the scent trail. Following the turn, Jaggedshadow saw Stoneclaw. The large grey warrior with piercing sky-blue eyes had clearly been waiting for a while, as evidenced by the scent-pool that he was standing in.


	16. Chapter 16

"How was your journey?" Stoneclaw asked Jaggedshadow.

Jaggedshadow sat. "Not bad. Apart from falling out of a tree, I enjoyed it."

Stoneclaw chuckled. "And what have I told you about tree climbing?"

"For the longest time, you forbade me from doing that," Jaggedshadow retorted.

"Only because you kept falling from the branches. I could not train an apprentice who was limping so often. You have come a long way."

"Physically?" Jaggedshadow asked Stoneclaw, "or are you just being sappy?"

"Well you did finish that journey, did you not?" 

"I don't have time for your jokes."

Stoneclaw stood, frowning. "I wish you would lighten up. I miss the way you were before."

"So what?"

"I know you care not for my opinions," Stoneclaw meowed, "or any other cat's for that matter. But there are many cats, including myself, who are worried for you. You have been distant lately." 

Jaggedshadow stood. "I know."

"Good," Stoneclaw meowed. "Let us walk to the camp. I imagine Nightsong, Brambleshade, Moondusk, and Shattered Oak will be glad to know you are safe."

Stoneclaw and Jaggedshadow began to walk toward the NightClan Camp. Their fur ruffled in a cold breeze, and one of Jaggedshadow's ears twitched as a large dead leaf fell on it.

"Where's Brambleshade?" Jaggedshadow asked.

"I do not know” Stoneclaw meowed, “I last saw her two days ago.” 

"Jaggedshadow." Brambleshade slid out of the shadows which were casted by a tree to Jaggedshadow's left. "I am here. When you didn't return many days after you began your journey, I began a search, hoping to find you."

“That's... Thoughtful,” Jaggedshadow meowed. He had not noticed Brambleshade's scent until just then, for some reason or other. Jaggedshadow was glad that no cat had followed him into the tunnels, as he would likely have been blamed for their death. He continued to walk. Brambleshade and Stoneclaw walked on either side of him as if escorting him to the NightClan Camp.

As Jaggedshadow stepped through the entrance tunnel, several cats stopped to gaze at him for a brief moment. He was exhausted, and he did not want any special attention. He headed toward the guardians cave. 

Once in his nest, Jaggedshadow closed his eyes. For once in his life, he fell asleep without much effort. 


	17. Chapter 17

Jaggedshadow stood. The sky was still dark. He must have not rested for long. His mouth was dry, so he began walking. He was heading toward the snow pool. The stream that flowed from the snow pool had the most delicious, and refreshing water that Jaggedshadow had ever tasted. Despite the rest that he had, his side still hurt. 

Jaggedshadow bent his neck and lapped at the cold, fast-moving stream. Once he had quenched his thirst, he looked around at the clearing. 

It was a nice spot. The clearing was a flat patch of land that was bathed in cold silver moonlight. To Jaggedshadow's left, was a large chunk of vibrant orange sandstone. During the day, it was a good spot for basking in sunlight. The stream that he had been drinking from flowed from the snow pool. Above Jaggedshadow, birch and oak trees stood out from the dark of the night, and from the moonlight. 

Jaggedshadow stepped out of the clearing. He started toward camp. Moments later, when he stepped through the entrance tunnel, he turned eastward, and walked into the guardians cave. Walking around Stoneclaw and Ravenheart, who were asleep in their nests, Jaggedshadow stepped into his nest. He laid down and closed his eyes once again. 

Jaggedshadow awoke to the first rays of the day's dawn. He rose from his nest. Stoneclaw's, and Ravenheart's nests were empty. Jaggedshadow stepped around their nests. He left the cave.

Jaggedshadow could not have asked for a better time to begin the first phase of his plan. There were few cats in the camp and Cedartail was nowhere to be seen. Jaggedshadow walked out of the camp. The first step of his plan to kill Cedartail was to gather a large quantity of poison, preferably bloodberries. The sweet, deep-red flesh of a bloodberry was edible in small doses, but one must be careful, as a dose of only three berries, seeds or no seeds, was lethal. There was a small bloodberry bush half a day’s walk south of camp. That bush was far outside NightClan territory, but Jaggedshadow was willing to face any dangers in pursuit of his vengeance.

Jaggedshadow stepped across the faint scent line that was the NightClan border. He would have to be quick with this quest. NightClan would likely notice that he had been away, and they would likely send a search patrol after him.

Jaggedshadow ran. If he ran fast enough, he could reach the bush in a quarter of the time than it would otherwise take. This way, Jaggedshadow could return to NightClan before night fell. It was of utmost importance to him to avoid any suspicion. 

Sure enough, Jaggedshadow reached the bush in a short amount of time. His ribs did not hurt anymore, but his chest ached from the run. Jaggedshadow walked away from the bloodberry bush. He was looking for a long broad leaf to carry the bloodberries in. He soon spied a dock plant which towered over him. Its broad leaves would work as a container for the potent bloodberries. Jaggedshadow reached up and nipped the largest leaf from the bush at its base. Seizing the leaf between his teeth, he carried it to the bloodberry bush.

Jaggedshadow gathered ten berries and placed them, one by one, on the dock leaf. After he did that, he turned his attention to the sky. The sun had not moved far since he had begun this quest. He had a decent amount of time. He would catch prey, both for Cedartail, and for NightClan, so that he could say that he had been hunting.

Jaggedshadow dropped into a hunting crouch, listening and watching for prey signs. He opened his mouth and drew air into his mouth, tasting the air for prey-scent. 

After a few moments of waiting, a mouse's scent drifted through the air. The mouse was a fox-length upwind from Jaggedshadow. The mouse was small but plump-looking, and its gray fur shone as it scampered between rocks. Jaggedshadow prowled toward the mouse, hoping that the wind would not shift. 

Jaggedshadow leaped forward. He pined it against the ground and sunk his teeth into the mouse's neck, killing it. He dug a small hole and buried the mouse. 

Jaggedshadow gazed across the landscape. He opened his mouth, once again tasting the air for prey-scent. He strained his ears, listening for the heavy rhythmic footfalls of a hare or a rabbit. Jaggedshadow stood motionless, swiveling his head to scan the horizon. After a few moments of careful watching, a pair of large ears appeared above the grass stems. Jaggedshadow kept his gaze trained on the rabbit, and the rabbit's small beady eye gazed back at him. He froze. The rabbit lowered itself back on to its forelegs, and Jaggedshadow prowled toward the rabbit, placing his paws carefully on the ground; feeling for any twigs, soft ground, or loose rocks that might give his position away. Once he was close enough to strike, the rabbit sat up. It had seen him. 

Jaggedshadow had no time to waste. He sprang at the rabbit. For a moment, it seemed like he was flying. Seeing this, the rabbit froze. Jaggedshadow collided with the rabbit, knocking it over. Holding the rabbit down with his paws, Jaggedshadow leaned in and sank his teeth into its neck. He stood and seized the rabbit by its neck fur. 

Jaggedshadow folded the dock leaf around the bloodberries. The sun was not far above the horizon. If he wanted to return to camp before dark, he needed to hurry. He dug the mouse up and seized it by the tail, tucking the leaf parcel behind the hare in his jaws, careful not to bite too hard. Jaggedshadow stood. He arched his back, and bounded northward, running to the NightClan Camp. 

Dense rocky grassland turned into leaf-strewn woodland as Jaggedshadow ran. He soon ran past the NightClan borderline. The sun was slipping below the horizon. Jaggedshadow would have loved to watch the sun fall below the horizon, but he needed to get to camp. 

Jaggedshadow walked into camp. Brambleshade, Stoneclaw, Shattered Oak, and Stormwind greeted him. He nodded at them. Jaggedshadow walked into the prey storage den and dropped the mouse on top of the small fresh-kill pile. He strode into the guardians cave and tucked the leaf parcel carefully into his nest. 

Jaggedshadow stepped into Cedartail's den. As he laid eyes on Cedartail, his enemy and leader, a wave of revulsion swept over him. He stepped toward Cedartail, wondering how long he would have to suck up to Cedartail. 

Cedartail stood. "Ah, so the renegade returns."

Jaggedshadow dropped the rabbit at Cedartail's feet. He stepped back, bowing his head. "I am not a renegade. Othtor guides my path. I was only hunting." 

_ Liar _ ! Jaggedshadow heard Plague say. 

_ Not now Plague _ . Jaggedshadow thought.  _ I don't have time for this _ . To Jaggedshadow’s surprise, Plague did, in fact, stop talking.

"I thank you for the prey." Cedartail seemed satisfied with Jaggedshadow's answer. He relaxed. "Go. Get some rest. It would be a shame if a powerful warrior like yourself was too exhausted to endure a patrol." 


	18. Chapter 18

"Pay closer attention to the angle at which your wings are tilted," Welkin called to Fenn as they soared through the vast open sky.

Fenn straightened his wings and tilted their backs upward slightly. "I don't see how this changes anything."

"The difference might be subtle," Welkin cawed. "But this change will smooth your flight. 

"My flying  _ is _ smooth. I just need to flap less."

"fewer,” Welkin corrected. “you only need to flap fewer times _._ Your flying may have improved to a great extent, but your grammar has not. Furthermore, you keep drifting from side-to-side. That is not efficient or elegant by any metric.”

Welkin was like a second father or an uncle to Fenn. The wise old raven could be a grump at times, but it was clear to Fenn that Welkin cared deeply for him. Welkin had been teaching Fenn to fly since the young wolf had been old enough to see.

"Noted." Fenn flapped his wings in short, swift wing-strokes in rapid succession for a burst of speed. Soaring felt great as it usually did, but he was bored. 

Fenn and Welkin had been practicing various techniques for most of the day. Around Sunhigh, Fenn had caught a hawk using a technique that Welkin had taught him. He had sworn, to Welkin and to himself, that he would never kill a raven.

Their lessons together had started rather slow and gentle, not accomplishing much with each session, but, in a short time, Fenn had learned the basics, such as various methods of taking flight, and landing. Fenn had also learned a few more complicated, intense maneuvers like tight upward and downward spirals; and barrel rolls without losing control. At the moment, Fenn was learning about matters that were even more intricate, such as the angle of one's wings, the position of one's wings in flight, and the length of one's wing strokes in flight.

Fenn flapped his wings, steering himself downward. Before Welkin could prevent his mischief, he folded his wings, dropping head-first through the open sky. The backdraft from Fenn's dive pushed his fur against his face, cooling it.

Moments before Fenn collided with the treetops, he unfurled his wings. The momentum of his dive was too great for this maneuver, and he crashed back-first into the branches of a pine tree.

Fenn thrashed his legs, wings, and tail to gain a grasp on a branch. Pine needles exploded into the surrounding trees, and branches snapped under the strain of the sheer momentum of Fenn's dive-assisted fall. Branches snagged his feathers, ripping some of them out of his wings. A few feathers had been loose, but most had not.

**Author's Note: sorry for the late chapter. My homeschooling started up for this year, and my sleep schedule had gone haywire because of other unrelated factors.**

Æri prowled toward a buck. It was drinking from a spring. It was large enough that Æri could not take it on by himself. It was healthy looking, except that one of its back legs was injured, making it an excellent target.

The buck glanced at Æri, but did not move. It had not seen him. Æri shot Keo a glance. Keo nodded. She stood beside a bush. She was ready to strike.

Æri's role in this hunt was the spring. It was his job to startle a prey animal toward the chasers. The chasers would then steer the prey toward the striker, who would in turn lead the attack. The different hunting roles were usually interchangeable, and were often variable during a hunt, but in this case each wolf had an assigned role that best fitted their attributes. 

Keo, Vargir and Ellyk were quick on their feet and were chasers. Fenn was in a unique position where he had a dual hunting role due to his wings. In the air, he was for the most part, a solo hunter. On the ground, he was either a chaser or a striker. Æri and Azlune could both take the role of either spring or striker, depending on the circumstances.

Æri leaped forward. He landed just short of the buck. It leaped into the air and ran past the bush that Keo was hiding behind. Keo leaped into action. She, Vargir and Ellyk drove the deer toward Azlune, harassing it with their teeth.

Before Æri could join the hunt, a sound of snapping branches emitted from a tree several paces behind him. He rushed to the tree, following a trail of Fenn's pained whimpers. Æri leaped onto the tree trunk. He gripped the trunk with his claws as he hauled himself onto the lowest branch. Æri had not climbed a tree since he was a NightClan apprentice, but he would not let unused skills stop him. 

He leaped between the branches until they could no longer support his weight. The pine tree was massive, but Fenn needed help. Æri crawled up the tree, using the branch basses as a ladder. 

He placed a hindpaw on a branch, lifting a foreleg to place on a higher branch. Before Æri could make another move, Fenn began his soft whimper again. Æri stepped on top of a branch and walked toward Fenn. Fenn sprawled across a mat of broken branches. His legs and tail were splayed out; his wings were unfurled. They too were stretched out on the matted twigs. Æri gently nudged Fenn's wings until they were folded against his back. He grabbed Fenn by the scruff. 

Æri stepped onto a lower branch. He would not be able to accurately leap down branches. Æri stepped onto another lower branch. He was using the tree as a massive spiral staircase. 

When the branches were too far apart, Æri leaped the short distance. Landing on one of the lowest branches, he leaped to the ground, rolling to spare Fenn and himself injury. Æri set Fenn on the ground. Fenn rose to his feet after much difficulty. 

"What happened?" Æri asked Fenn.

"I was flying alongside Welkin, learning of the intricacies of flight, when I decided to dive like a falcon." 

"And that failed?"

Fenn nodded. "I unfurled my wings at the last moment, but instead of rising, I tumbled into the tree."

Æri sat down. "But are you alright?" 

"Yes I am," Fenn said, "except for my wings. They took a powerful hit during my fall. It will be days before I can fly again."

"Can you walk?"

"Yes."

Æri stood. "Let us walk to our den. You need to rest."

Fenn nodded in agreement and they walked to the pack's den. Once there, Fenn laid on his belly, near the cave walls. Once Fenn was settled, Æri walked to a nearby clearing. He wanted to hear what Welkin had to say about the incident. 

Welkin landed a few paces in front of Æri. He walked towards the wolf, hopping in between steps as ravens usually do. 

Æri sat. "What happened?"

"I was teaching Fenn some of the intricacies of flight, when he must have decided to perform a dive. He performed it flawlessly, except that he unfurled his wings too late. I did not however, see where he landed." Welkin told Æri, confirming Fenn's previous statement.

“What of Nightsong?”

"I have seen no sign of him."

"Is there any other news?"

"Yes," Welkin said, "I saw a big cat traveling northward."

"Describe them."

"The cat's fur was tan with black stripes. They seemed to be in a hurry."

Æri stood. "Thank you for your time." _That sounds like Welkin was describing Jaggedshadow,_ he thought. _But what was Jaggedshadow doing_ _outside of NightClan territory?_

"Of course," Welkin replied. "Where is Fenn?"

"He is in the den, resting. He will not be able to fly for few falls."

"May I see him?"

"Yes. Will you join us for a meal?"

"Of course," Welkin said, "I wouldn't mind a few scraps." 

"Will Muninn, Regis and the others be there?"

"Yes." 

"Good. I will signal you when I find Azlune, Keo, Vargir and Ellyk."


	19. Chapter 19

Jaggedshadow stepped out of the guardians cave. It was a beautiful day. His pelt was warmed by the sun, birdsong filled the air, and for the first time since he was Stoneclaw's apprentice, he felt happy. He lifted his head and grinned. 

Jaggedshadow's gaze met Cedartail's and his grin faded. A hatred, older than Jaggedshadow himself, took over him, causing his fur to spike. His breaths became ragged, and his eyes narrowed. As Jaggedshadow bared his teeth and unsheathed his claws, his ears folded against his head. 

After a few moments, he opened his eyes. His fur flattened. Jaggedshadow looked around himself. Several cats were staring at him. Jaggedshadow sighed. His pelt felt hot. He had embarrassed himself once again, but this time the whole Clan had been watching. 

Jaggedshadow ran out of camp. Once he left the entrance tunnel behind him, he sat in the shade of a misshapen oak tree. Jaggedshadow stood as a border patrol marched into view.

As they came closer, he turned away and ran. He did not want to talk to any cat. 

Once Jaggedshadow reached the watchers tree, he turned and ran. He was running eastward. Jaggedshadow stopped moments before he would have crashed into a sturdy oak. He was hungry, so he decided to hunt. 

Dropping into a hunting crouch, Jaggedshadow stalked forward. He stopped. There was a pheasant ten paces from his position. Jaggedshadow continued to stalk toward it.

The pheasant took off into the air, squawking in fright. It had seen Jaggedshadow. Leaping after it, Jaggedshadow stretched his forelegs toward the pheasant, unsheathing his claws to catch it. He had grossly miscalculated his leap, and he fell from the apogee of his leap. Jaggedshadow landed on his paws. Behind him, Moondusk approached, with raised hackles and bared teeth. 

"If it wasn't for your clumsy hunting, I would have caught that hare," Moondusk growled at Jaggedshadow.

"What hare?"

"The one that I was trying to catch, you gigantic oaf," Moondusk hissed. "Silvermist needed that hare, and now I will have to catch another for her."

"So?" Jaggedshadow meowed, "some other cat could bring her prey."

Moondusk stepped back as a look of disbelief and shock appeared on his face. "Surely you have some sense of loyalty to  _ your _ kin?"

Moondusk's comment stung, but Jaggedshadow only glared at him. There was no turning back, especially since his rival stood before him. Most of his family were either dead or banished and Jaggedshadow had not carried a meaningful conversation with those who remained in NightClan. 

Jaggedshadow stepped toward Moondusk. "Moondusk," he hissed, "I challenge you to a duel. Victory will be declared at first blood drawn. The defeated one will go into exile for three days."  _ We'll see who is the clumsy oaf!  _ Jaggedshadow thought. __

"Where and when, Jaggedshadow?" Moondusk growled.

"I'm glad that you accept my challenge," Jaggedshadow meowed coolly. "Our duel will take place at the old training hill, after I fetch Nightsong to officiate." 

"So be it."

It didn't take long for Jaggedshadow to reach camp. Once in, he went to Nightsong's den to ask him to officiate the duel. In NightClan, when one challenged a fellow warrior to a duel, they would fetch either a medicine cat, a leader, or a deputy to officiate. 

This was done to discourage lying and to prevent unnecessary death, as the vast majority of duels were to the first blood. A duel could have a maximum of five participants, including the officiators, of which there could be two at most. 

"Yes, Jaggedshadow?" Nightsong asked.

"Will you officiate a duel between Moondusk and I? And could you skip the speech about how Othtor and Caelum watch over us?"

“What are the terms?"

“The duel will be to the first blood. The loser will go into exile for three days.”

"Yes, I will officiate your duel," Nightsong replied after a moment. "But I will not omit the section about Othtor's guidance and watchfulness. That section is integral to the opening speech of a duel. Just because you cannot see Caelum doesn't mean that they are not watching over and guiding you."

"Whatever."

"I wasn't finished. Take for example the spirit blind. They cannot always see spirits, yet they believe in the power of their ancestors." 

“Well forgive my skepticism," Jaggedshadow spat, "but I once believed. Look how that has worked out for me."

"Nevertheless," Nightsong meowed. "Haven't we a duel to attend? Pineheart asked me to greet you for him by the way. He goes by the name Æri now."

Jaggedshadow ran to the training hill with Nightsong at his side.  _ Pineheart ‘s alive? _ He thought. When he and Nighsong arrived on the hill, Moondusk was sitting beside a mossy, termite-filled log. 

Moondusk stood. "Took you long enough."

"True." Nightsong sat.

"'Right, then." Jaggedshadow took his place at one end of the hilltop. Moondusk walked toward Jaggedshadow, stopping when there was a fox-length between him and Jaggedshadow.

"Are you both sure you want to proceed?" Nightsong asked, startling Jaggedshadow. "Because if there is  _ any _ doubt, then you must settle whatever quarrel you have  _ without violence." _

_ " _ We are," Jaggedshadow said.

Nightsong stood. "I say these words before Caelum, that they will hear and approve this duel and its outcome, whatever it may be. These warriors quarrel and have resorted to the age-old custom of a duel to the first blood. They require your wisdom, O Caelum, and Othtor's guidance, for without it we are no better than renegades or rouges. Guide them as they make amends after the defeated one's exile."

Jaggedshadow yawned. He wasn't trying to disrespect his brother, but Nightsong's speeches always seemed to be longer than necessary. Moons before the battle at hawk ridge, Jaggedshadow had received medicine cat training alongside Nightsong, as part of his guardian training. He had once even officiated a duel.

That duel had been fought by two senior warriors who, had long been arguing about each other's hunting techniques, both of which were quite effective. One of them, who's name was White Ear, died from their wounds not long after the duel. Jaggedshadow had sworn that he would never take part in a duel over something so trivial, yet there he was.

Nightsong turned toward Jaggedshadow. "Do you, Jaggedshadow, swear before Caelum to stop fighting once the blood drawing blow is struck?"

"Yes I do," Jaggedshadow said hastily. He was eager to begin the duel. He would show Moondusk just how bitter defeat could taste. 

Nightsong turned toward Moondusk. "And do you, Moondusk, swear before Caelum to stop fighting once the blood drawing blow is struck?" 

"I do."

Nightsong stepped back. "Then you may begin."

Jaggedshadow unsheathed his claws. He was going to have fun showing Moondusk how much more skilled he was. Jaggedshadow and Moondusk circled each other. Since it was a duel to the first blood, it was crucial they avoided striking until they were sure that their strikes would connect. Tigershadow’s ears flattened.

Moondusk leaped at Jaggedshadow. Jaggedshadow dodged his strike, turning to face him. Moondusk leaped at Jaggedshadow once again. This time, Jaggedshadow leaped into the air moments before Moondusk would have reached him, performing a nigh-perfect back-flip in the process. Moondusk changed his method of attack, rushing at Jaggedshadow. 

Jaggedshadow simply responded by stepping to the left. Moondusk seemed to wise up to his strategy, raking his claws along his opponent's side. Jagggedshadow sprang back, rolling away. He gave his side a few swift lisks. He breathed a sigh of relief. Moondusk’s claws had not pierced his skin. He had not lost. 

Moondusk rushed him again. Jaggedshadow leaped over his rivals head, landing a fox-length behind him. Moondusk spun to face Jaggedshadow. Jaggedshadow stepped toward the smaller warrior, bringing his forelegs down on Moondusk’s shoulder. This would stun Moondusk for a few moments and paralyze his shoulders for a similar amount of time. Moondusk stumbled backward. 

Jaggedshadow leaped at Moondusk, landing in front of Moondusk, who continued backing away. Before Moondusk could react, he raked his claws down his shoulder. Moondusk flinched. The strike had not drawn blood. Jaggedshadow followed it with a strike to the chin. Moondusk's head jerked upward. blood trickled from the new wound. 


	20. Chapter 20

Jaggedshadow grinned as Moondusk walked toward the southern border. He had defeated one of his greatest rivals. Jaggedshadow strode toward camp. His other two rivals were Rainfur and Stoneclaw, both of whom were great fighters. 

Jaggedshadow stopped. Beside the entrance tunnel, entangled in a thorn bush, was a long black scrap of fur. Jaggedshadow stepped toward it, jaws parted to take in the scent. The fur carried Pineheart's scent. Jaggedshadow walked into camp. It was odd that Pineheart had been in NightClan's territory, but Jaggedshadow had more important things to think about, namely poisoning his leader, as one does. 

Jaggedshadow would have to be extra careful with his method of delivery. If his scheme was discovered, he would end up maimed or dead. Jaggedshadow stopped in front of his nest. The Guardians cave was always cool, even in the hottest days of Greenleaf. This made it a good place to store herbs, as long as they were not damaged.

“Nice day, Jaggedshadow?” Stormwind asked him. 

“I guess. How's your day look?” 

"Good, " she said, "I thought that I would hunt for a while. Ravenheart asked me to spar with her later."

"Cool," he said, "I'll eat, then I am going to join a border patrol. I might join you two."

“I'll see you then.” Stormwind turned away and walked out of camp.

Jaggedshadow nodded. NightClan cats often spared each other. This practice, like sharing tongues, served to bring Clanmates closer together. It also served to keep NightClan cat’s fighting skills sharp. Unlike dueling, NightClan healers were permitted to spar. 

Jaggedshadow picked a plump shrew from the prey den. He carried it into the Guardians cave. Once he arrived in his nest, he made a small incision with a claw. He unrolled the poison-laden bundle, setting six bloodberries aside. He placed the other four on the other side of the dock leaf. 

Jaggedshadow sliced the seed out of a bloodberry. Before placing the bloodberry in the shrew, he mashed it between a paw and a section of the dock leaf. Jaggedshadow repeated these steps with the five remaining berries. He was using the flesh of six bloodberries because he didn't trust that Cedartail would eat the whole berries without suspecting that something was awry.

A chill went down Jaggedshadow's back. He looked up. Sure enough, Plague stood before him.

"What are you doing?" Plague asked Jaggedshadow. 

"You know full well what I'm doing."

"You are correct," Plague said. "I do know what you are doing, and I understand why you are doing it. I cannot, however, allow you to walk this path again, Clouded Sky."

_ Why did he call me Clouded Sky?  _ Jaggedshadow thought _. And what does he mean by ‘again?’  _ "Try to stop me." 

Plague gave a forlorn smile. "You are right. I cannot." He turned away; he stepped out of the Guardians cave, his misty figure vanishing as he stepped into the sunlight. 

Jaggedshadow stuffed crushed bloodberries into the shrew. He paused. Was all this preparation and scheming necessary? Did he really want to kill Cedartail? Jaggedshadow packed the last of the crushed bloodberries into the shrew. The answer to both questions was yes. Something told Jaggedshadow that there was no turning back. 

  
Jaggedshadow stood and walked to Cedartail's den. He placed the shrew beside the dens entrance. He walked into camp, where a patrol was forming by the entrance tunnel.


	21. Chapter 21

Nightsong yawned. Above the treetops, the sky was a grand tapestry woven of shades of red, pink, blue and orange. He had been sorting herbs since Sunhigh, after he had returned from officiating Moondusk and Jaggedshadow's duel. 

After returning to camp, Nightsong had found his den in a state of astonishing disarray. His herbs, which were usually arranged in stacks along the cave's walls, lay strewn across the den floor, mixed with broken sticks and clumps of moss. _Must have been Brokenstorm and Amberpelt,_ Nightsong thought, gazing into his den. _Those two are always getting into trouble._ _But then again, I wasn't much better at that age, either._

Nightsong pushed a stack of drying chamomile flowers to the back of the medicine den. He pulled a large pile of assorted herbs toward himself, sorting the herbs into separate piles, tossing the occasional stick or twig into camp. 

Once he was finished, Nightsong swatted a ball of moss. It rolled out of his den. Nightsong layed down, closing his eyes. His nest was comfortable as always, and was one of the few things in his den that had not been tampered with. 

Nightsong awoke. He stretched, walking out of camp. He was seeking a small clump of marigold plants that were just south of camp. He had a good supply of marigold leaves in his den, but he didn't have much else to do. 

Nightsong stopped. Something small and brown flashed into view. Nightsong leaped after it. He pinned the mouse against the ground with a paw and killed it with a swift bite to its neck. Nightsong buried the mouse.

Returning to herb gathering, he nipped a few stems at their base and carried them to his den for processing. Nightsong sat beside his nest. He placed the stems before him. Stripping leaves from the stem, he put them on a rock to dry. 

Nightsong walked to the marigold patch and dug the mouse up. Before he returned to camp, Flamesong started walking beside him. 

"Ah, just the cat I wanted to speak with," Flamesong said.

"Is someone injured?" Hope flared in Nightsong's chest, only to be crushed by Flamesong's response.

"No," Flamesong told him, "I want you to keep an eye on Jaggedshadow. He has been unusually friendly to Cedartail these last few days; I fear he will do something unwise."

"You want me to spy on my brother?"

Flamesong shook his head. "I merely wish you to inform me of any suspicious activity on his part. I only ask this to ensure the safety of NightClan." 

"Cedartail isn't the entirety of NightClan," Nightsong snapped. "Loyalty has its place, but  _ blind _ loyalty is more destructive than it’s worth." 

"You are correct, Nightsong," Flamesong said, "but  _ surely _ you of all cats recall that most of NightClan's tyrants were revolutionaries?” 

"I know this.” 

“Then you must know that most of NightClan’s tyrants were skydwellers.”

“Of course." Nightsong fought a groan at Flamesong's condescending and accusatory questions. It was true that all but two of NightClan's tyrants were skydwellers who had led successful rebellions against their own leaders. As a healer, it was Nightsong’s duty to memorize and understand the oral traditions and laws of NightClan. At this, he excelled. He had almost always seen the value of the structure that rules provided.

“Then you understand my concern?”

“I see your point of view, if that’s what you mean,” Nightsong told Flamesong, “But fear is a powerful thing. It is an ally as well as an enemy. Fear can drive appart bonds created by a lifetime of trust and friendship, or it can keep one from harm. It all depends on whether you control it, or let it control you."

"Well," Flamesong said, " if you are done trying to philosophize with me, I have a Clan to run. Good day." He turned toward camp and walked away.

"And a good day to you." Nightsong shook his head. Flamesong was a walking contradiction. He was a good cat and a strong one as well, but he was the most spiritually weak cat Nightsong knew, as Flamesong’s connection to Caelum was almost nil. He was powerful yet weak, confident yet insecure, and rash yet wise. In short, he was a complicated cat.

Nightsong followed Flamesong moments later, carrying his mouse. He stepped into his den, resuming the re-organization and sorting of his medical supplies. This time, he found this work much less tedious than before. 

Nightsong paused. The gentle, hurried sound of pawsteps signaled a cat's approach. Nightsong looked up. Brokenstorm stood before him. 

“Come quick,” Brokenstorm panted, “Rainfur’s ill.”

Nightsong stood. “What are her symptoms?”

“Huh?”

“Nevermind.”  _ I probably don't have the time to explain it to you, _ Nightsong thought. He stacked four yarrow leaves, six borage leaves, two large pieces of moss and a dried poppy flower on a fresh dock leaf. Wrapping the dock leaf around the herb bundle, Nightsong grabbed it. 

Nightsong followed Brokenstorm to the base of the stone circle, where Rainfur lay on her side. Nightsong unrolled the bundle, avoiding the small puddle of vomit which lay close to Rainfur's muzzle. He sat. He needed to assess Rainfur’s condition so that he could administer the proper treatment. Rainfur’s breaths were short and shallow. Every moment or so, a tremor swept Rainfur’s body. Without warning, Rainfur began to spasm violently, as if possessed. 

Nightsong rushed to Rainfur, pinning her forelegs to the ground to prevent injury. "Brambleshade, help me restrain her."

Brambleshade nodded. She leaped toward Rainfur and held her hindlegs down. Seeing this, Shattered Oak rushed over to hold Rainfur's side down. 

After a short length of time, Rainfur stopped sizing. 

It was then Nightsong noticed red mush in the vomit. He gasped, glad he had brought yarrow. This was a classic case of bloodberry poisoning. The only treatment that worked was to have the patent eat yarrow leaves, which would induce vomiting, which would get the bloodberries out of the patents system. 

"Eat this." Nightsong waved a yarrow leaf in front of Rainfur's nose. 

Rainfur chewed the leaf, grimacing from the pungent, tangy taste. A wad of yarrow pulp landed on Nightsong’s shoulder.

“I know that it tastes terrible, but you must swallow some.” Nightsong pushed another leaf toward her.

Rainfur swallowed the remaining pulp from the first leaf and began chewing the second. She swallowed, eating the third and last leaf. Anxiety stirred in Nightsong’s stomach. Would the yarrow actually work? 

“When did you notice that something was wrong?” Nightsong asked Rainfur.

“It all started just after I-” Her mew was cut off by a series of powerful retches. Nightsong looked away. 

“Better now?” Nightsong asked after she had finished vomiting.

“Yes it is, but my chest still feels numb.”

Nightsong paused, unsure whether he should get more yarrow leaves, or reassure Rainfur. If only Leafwhisker had not challenged Cedartail a moon previous. She would have known what to do. 

A chill found its way down Nightsong’s back, like an earthworm escaping a flood, as he recalled his mentor’s gruesome fate. Leafwhisker had defied Cedartail, and as a result, was turned into a pile of ash by an orange and crimson tide of flames. “You were saying?”

“I saw a shrew outside of Cedartail's den," Rainfur began, "no cat had claimed it, so I thought it was fine to eat. Soon after I ate it, my chest began to feel numb. After this, I had trouble breathing and my legs began to be shaky. I was trying to reach your den when I began writhing without control.“

“I see,” Nightsong said, “I will bring you some water.” 

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place during the era between Eclipse and The Last Hope. Also, I discovered something interesting about the name Æri: (Which I made up, I thought.) it is a latin word that means 'the sky'. It is not usually a name, and is usually spelled aeri, but I prefer the look of Æri as opposed to Aeri. (Side note, sorry to any people who I confused with my misuse of the Æ.)


End file.
